Her Smile Heals Me
by mamatots
Summary: Story begins Prom Night. Santana's life spirals out of control. Brittany does her best to love and protect her...but will it be enough to save her? *from a review: This is about how everybody is affected in so many ways by one life changing event.*
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer**: I only borrowed these characters from the Fox show **Glee**…I obviously do not own them…nor do I own the songs that are referenced in this story…therefore, no copyright infringement was intended. The rest of this story is mine so please do not use any part of it without my written permission. I've marked this for a mature audience, because it contains very serious subjects and **strong language**. I hope you enjoy what I've written. I would really appreciate your constructive feedback. Thanks! Kim

**Her Smile Heals Me**

By mamatots

Santana walked briskly down the south hallway of McKinley High and pushed open the exit door to escape into the cool night air. She took in a deep breath, pausing slightly to calm herself.

…_Dancing Queen, young and sweet, only seventeen…_

The persistent beat of the song she just finished performing still rang in her head. _So cliché_… the slim brunette thought to herself. _Puke._She had pictured herself dancing to that song as the crowned prom queen when Mr. Shuester originally selected it…_not singing it for Kurt and Blaine to shine_. _Junior prom totally sucks._

The dark-haired beauty let out an aggravated sigh and moved further toward the student parking lot with determined steps. She pulled off her wrist corsage of red roses from her left arm and tossed it to the ground. _Fuck them_. _They can all go to hell._

Santana looked around the lot for a moment, lost in slight confusion. _My keys…shit_. She'd put them in her locker before the dance started. She let out another huge sigh. _I can't win tonight_. She laughed, the irony of her loss for the queen's crown not escaping her. _Whatever_. Brittany was right earlier…_we could find that cheap-ass crown at any party store_…_I don't need their approval_. _That's right_, she told herself as she pulled her strong shoulders back which stuck out her ample chest. _Who cares what any of those Lima losers think anyway_.

She looked up at the night Ohio sky. The stars seemed extra bright tonight without any clouds to block their visibility. _I care_, she admitted, her shoulders falling again.

She could hear the pounding of the music coming from the gymnasium. She heard Mercedes' voice loud and proud. She didn't seem fazed by Santana's sudden departure from the stage. Mercedes loved being a one-woman show when given the chance.

Santana leaned against the hood of her car, crossing her arms, as a giddy couple playfully walked hand-in-hand past her. They smiled respectfully at the former head cheerleader as she stood there in her crimson dress. The red complimented her dark complexion, highlighting the Latina beauty's natural glow. Varsity Cheerio or not, her mere presence demanded respect, and she had always gotten it from the other students.

_See, they seem to like me, whoever they are. So…how did I lose tonight_? Santana was still filled with defeat. Something Santana Lopez was not used to feeling. She was a top athlete, made top grades, had a fantastic, sultry singing voice, was the daughter of a well-known Lima doctor plus she was gorgeous and totally hot. She'd dated…_ok, fucked_…all the hot, and a few not-so-hot, guys at McKinley High. Those who hadn't fucked her, wanted to at least. _I should have won with just the guy vote alone_! _God, why is this bothering me so much_?

"I need a smoke," she said to no one. Fortunately, she knew just where to find Puck's hidden pack of cigarettes.

Even in three-inch heels, Santana moved across the parking lot and up the grassy hill with the grace of a black cat. She headed for the gate that accessed the football field. It was chain-locked when she reached it. She'd encountered that restriction before. She knew just where there was a weak spot in the fencing, a small section that had long ago pulled away from the post. Like any good trespasser, she took off her heels and tossed them over the fence then hiked up her dress with one hand as she lifted the metal with the other. Her trim body slipped under with ease. Almost. Santana heard a rip just as she pulled her second leg through. _Fuck. Good job, Santana…how will I explain THAT to the dress shop when I try to return this overpriced rose garden on Monday_? 

* * *

><p>Brittany looked around the gym as she danced, hoping to catch a glimpse of Santana. <em>She looked so beautiful tonight<em>, the tall blonde thought to herself. That thought made her smile. Any thought of Santana made her smile. Usually.

Tonight had been hard though; hard to know what to say to her best friend. Santana had been so upset at losing prom queen, and Brittany didn't see that side of Santana much. _Never really_. The dark-haired beauty would rarely allow it, not letting her vulnerable side show to anyone.

Santana's confidence was one of her greatest assets and…_her biggest downfall_, the blonde dancer admitted under her breath.

Santana had let that wall down briefly when Brittany followed her out of the gym after Kurt was announced as Prom Queen. They were all shocked at that announcement, Kurt included. He wasn't even on the ballot. The junior class only voted for him as a joke. _Some joke_, Brittany frowned.

The other students didn't get it, that was clear. They had reduced this magical night to a homophobic insult right out of some conservative commentator's editorial. Brittany got it though. In all her innocence, she'd understood that Kurt being gay was his reality and not some punch line.

_Nobody should be made to feel ashamed for just being who they are_, Brittany thought to herself…i_f only Santana would embrace that._

"Hey, Tina…have you seen Santana lately?" the blonde yelled over the thump of the music to the female partner of the Asian couple dancing next to her.

Tina looked around the gym in a circle, waving her arms to the rhythm of the beat. Never missing a dance step, Tina shook her head no. Her dancing partner, Mike Chang, gave a look around and shrugged.

Brittany moved through the crowd of dancing teens, hoping to find her best friend over by the punchbowl where she'd seen her most of the night with her date, Dave Karofsky.

The tall blonde unconsciously shivered at the memory of that vision. _Geez, Santana…Puck, Sam…any other guy but Karofsky. That is just…gross._

Brittany had her doubts about her friend's "relationship" with the giant football player. _What's her angle_, she wondered to herself. There had to be some underlying goal, Brittany was sure of it. The match up was not only an unlikely one, it was just downright wrong.

Karofsky had been the biggest bully at McKinley up until a few weeks before prom. He had been so cruel to Kurt just for being outwardly gay that Kurt fled to a private school in a neighboring town. Suddenly, _Dave is cool and holding himself out to be this protector of gay kids at McKinley_? _I don't buy it_, Brittany rolled her eyes. But for whatever reason, Santana believed Karofsky and was now "in love" with him. So much so that she and Dave ran as prom king and queen together. _Together_..._What the hell_? The blue-eyed blonde adored her best friend, but her behavior recently made Brittany feel sick to her stomach.

She moved past Coach Sue Sylvester who was standing guard at the punchbowl and pushed open a side door of the gymnasium. Brittany hurried down the hallway into the girls' restroom, throwing the door open with a thud. She raced up to the sink just as a foul taste of bile soured the back of her throat. She swallowed hard. _Why, Santana…why_? Thoughts of the Latina beauty filled Brittany's head, causing her blue eyes to tear up.

She turned the handle for cold water and collected some in her palm, taking a sip then another. She swished it around in her dry mouth, letting it cleanse the bitterness then she leaned down to spit it out. She stood there a moment, her eyes stinging with the warmth of hurt and feelings so strong for Santana that they were overwhelming at times. She looked down at the running water and watched the clear liquid rush out of the faucet and down the drain unable to hold her tears back. An audible sob escaped. All the emotions she'd reined in earlier in the night in an impressive effort to be supportive to Santana…and to Kurt…finally broke through. The tall blonde was unable at this moment to hold onto the intense emotions that plagued her for months now.

"I thought I was the only blonde crying in the bathroom tonight," a low voice said from behind. Brittany jerked around, seeing nobody. She quickly turned off the faucet, leaving the restroom quiet.

"I'm sorry?" she said, not really sure why.

"This evening has not really played out as I envisioned."

Brittany leaned just far enough to see the bottom of a bright blue skirt and pale, slim legs crossed beneath it. The door to the end stall was open. Sitting on its toilet was Quinn Fabray.

"Quinn, do you need me to hold the door for you?" Brittany asked cautiously.

"Why?" Quinn replied deadpanned.

"Is the lock broken?"

"No…" she paused dramatically, "this toilet is my throne tonight." Her elbows were propped on her crossed knees, her perfect chin resting regally in her palms. Her gorgeous face was devoid of expression. She looked as deflated as she did beautiful, even sitting on a generic, germ-covered high school toilet.

"I'm confused," Brittany confessed.

Quinn stood and walked toward the sinks, flattening her wrinkled skirt as she moved. She observed herself in one of the mirrors, turning one side then the other to assure she'd maintained her cover-girl appearance. She glanced sideways to the taller blonde, "This school is full of judgmental posers."

That statement made Brittany snicker. _Quinn should talk_.

"Don't laugh." Quinn sighed.

"Sorry."

"I should have been crowned prom queen tonight," Quinn said matter-of-factly, "It was my destiny."

Brittany laughed hard enough she snorted this time. "Sorry."

Quinn drew in a deep breath, held it for a second then slowly blew it out. She was used to dealing with Brittany. Quinn had been the taller blonde's head cheerleader on the Cheerios squad for two years now. Well, except for the few months Quinn had been pregnant last year. _Yeah, sophomore year didn't really turn out as I'd envisioned either,_she privately admitted.

Quinn had struggled to regain her perfect image at McKinley. Until tonight, she'd started to believe she had. She was dating Finn again after many mishaps, she felt good, she felt strong again. Where had her campaign for Queen gone wrong? Finn was the perfect boyfriend. He was tall, good-looking, athletic, sensitive…_ok, a push-over_…but in a sweet way. He wasn't the brightest guy she could date, she knew that, but he was a born leader and he had a kind of quiet wisdom about him. She admired that quality. The biggest obstacle to maintaining perfection…_and Finn_, Quinn brooded, was…Rachel Berry. Glee club's shining star. Quinn's alter-ego. She huffed at the thought of the obnoxious little nymph. Though, as irritating as Rachel was, she was loyal. She'd even followed Quinn into her restroom retreat after Principal Figgins announced Kurt as Queen. Rachel was very supportive, apologetically helpful even, drying Quinn's baffled tears.

"You look beautiful tonight, Quinn." Brittany broke the silence.

Quinn smiled at her friend's undeniable warmth. "Thanks."

Both girls shifted their stance, turning to look at themselves. "I like your, um…little hat there," Quinn offered, referring to the tiny top hat askew on Brittany's head. "It's…totally you."

Brittany grinned. "Thanks."

"I guess Santana is pissed?" Quinn was all too familiar with the fiery brunette as well.

"She was pretty upset, yeah."

"She's seemed different lately. No?"

The taller blonde shifted awkwardly, looking down at the sink. "Yeah."

"I guess we've all had adjusting to do since the three of us quit the Cheerios for Glee."

"I guess."

Quinn was self-absorbed, but she was perceptive. "Are you ok, Britt?"

"Hmm? Yeah…I'm just worried about Santana, I guess."

Quinn stared at her, trying to read her body language. "You two are _very_ close. I've always been a little jealous of that."

"What? Why?" Brittany asked softly, not knowing really how to respond or knowing exactly where Quinn was going with that statement.

Quinn shrugged. "Nothing," she paused, "Santana is very lucky to have you, Brittany. For support…and everything." The second part seemed emphasized with purpose.

"Well…I don't know really how supportive I am right now. I can't seem to find her."

"She'll turn up…," Quinn paused, putting her right hand on the tall girl's shoulder and squeezing it softly, "…and when she does come out of hiding, Brittany…I hope you know that everyone in Glee Club will be supportive too." The blonde beauty turned to leave. "Make sure you tell her that," she said over her shoulder as the door of the restroom closed behind her. 

* * *

><p>Kurt Elizabeth Hummel spun and clasped his hands with joy as balloons dropped from the ceiling of the gymnasium at McKinley High, signaling the final moments of his junior prom. He looked across to the stage where a dark, voluptuous enchantress in a purple gown serenaded the crowd of giddy teens. As Mercedes finished her last belted note, Kurt caught her glance and winked, giving her an enthusiastic thumbs-up and a wave. She winked back, enjoying the last of her limelight.<p>

In Glee rehearsal on Monday, she was sure to be second fiddle again to Rachel Berry. Then again, she thought…_who am I kidding_? S_ometimes I'm third or fourth fiddle these days_, she balked. Not tonight though, she'd closed the prom…by herself.

A huge grin broke across her full face. She was most beautiful when she smiled, Kurt acknowledged inwardly with a loving sigh. Mercedes had always been so supportive to him. She was the first person he'd come out to, he remembered. She never missed a beat, making him feel almost normal for once in his short life. _Almost_. He was eternally grateful to her for that. The hardest part of transferring to Dalton Academy was leaving his day-to-day friendship with his lovely Mercedes. The best part of transferring to Dalton though was meeting Blaine.

Kurt looked to his left, finding his handsome, dark-haired dancing partner still enjoying himself. Kurt was in awe at times that his path had crossed Blaine's, leading him to his first true love.

"Having a good time, Blaine?"

"Yeah! You?" Blaine continued moving to the beat of the school orchestra's final selections.

"The evening has vastly improved."

Kurt's thoughts rushed back to the harshness of the spotlight shining on him in this very spot earlier in the night as Principal Figgins called his name as Junior Prom Queen. The joke was not funny. He'd only been back at McKinley for a few weeks, transferring only after a private plea by David Karofsky.

Kurt was still dumbfounded at the turn of events. Karofsky had single-handedly robbed Kurt of his dignity and sense of safety, forcing him to make the hard choice to transfer. Dave's threats had scared Kurt so much that he still didn't trust anyone at McKinley. Well, anyone outside of Glee Club.

His fellow Glee members were his only motivation to take such a leap of faith in coming back to this school. Though, Kurt did feel extreme pity for Dave. Kurt was one of the few people in Dave's life who had come to know the secret he continued to hide from the rest of McKinley, from the rest of the world. David Karofsky was gay too. His inward pain was evident in his blue eyes every time Kurt saw him. Kurt knew exactly how that pain felt. Until…he met Blaine.

Kurt took the hand of his savior and pulled Blaine close. The two started swaying in rhythm to what was probably the night's closing slow dance. "I love you, Blaine Warbler," Kurt whispered in his ear, "Thank you for helping me stay strong tonight."

Blaine pulled him even closer, his arm wrapped tightly around Kurt's neck, making sure not to bump the golden crown atop his love's head. Blaine kissed Kurt softly on the lips then leaned in and whispered, "You're the handsomest Queen I've ever danced with."

Kurt smiled, inside and out. 

* * *

><p>Santana pulled herself up off the grass, grabbing her heels with one hand and her skirt with the other. The underside of the football bleachers was very dark, still she knew her way around. She made her way down the paved path to a small wooden concessions booth set toward the middle of the bleachers. She rubbed her hand along the backside of the booth, near a cement leveling block. <em>Success<em>, she congratulated herself with a broad smile as she pulled out a crumpled box of Marlboros. The teen flipped open the top to find three left. _Thank you, Puck_. She pulled out the only one not bent then flicked the lighter a couple of times. Nothing. She flicked it again several times. Nothing. _Fuck, Puck_!

"You have to hold down the plastic edge as you flick it." A deep voice from the darkness instructed.

"I got this…thanks though." Santana was insulted. She knew how to light a fucking cigarette. She was so irritated at this point that it didn't even occur to her to worry that someone else was hanging out inside the dark stadium.

The shadowy figure moved toward her, finally causing her senses to heighten. She turned toward the movement, Marlboro still hanging from her full, red lips. For a moment, she drew in a shaky breath.

She heard the masculine figure take a swig from a bottle, his mouth popping not-so-classy off the glass as the liquid settled back to the bottom. As he moved in closer, she recognized the stench of Johnnie Walker scotch. _Puck's favorite_, she thought.

"No, you don't got this, do you?" That voice was not Puck's. A large hand appeared inches from Santana's face, holding a single match which its owner lit with one smooth stroke from his fingernail.

As the flame burned brightly, Santana leaned in to light her cigarette, taking a long drag and holding it before slowly letting it out. She could feel some of her tension blowing away with the smoke as she looked toward the lit figure just as he blew out the match. David Karofsky.

"What the fuck are you doing here, Karofsky?" Santana had no patience for him at this point, "I thought you ran home to your mommy instead of _**man**_-ing up and dancing with Kurt."

"Why don't you shut the hell up." He took another long swig, "You're one to talk, Lopez." His sarcasm was clear, having knowledge of the Latina's private struggles.

"Does Puck know you sneak in to drink his liquor?" She asked with disdain.

"Does he know you snake his smokes?"

"Whatever." Santana blew out another long puff, staring coldly across the path at her prom court running mate. After a moment of intense silence, she announced, "You know, Dave…you are the worst date _EVER_."

"Why? Because I'm not Brittany…or because you're still clothed and upright?"

"Fuck you."

"You wish…," he slurred back.

"No, I don't wish. You know why…? Because you're GAY, Dave. G-A-Y, Gay."

Santana could feel Karofsky's rage leap across the path before she even got the words completely out of her mouth, and as if in slow motion, that sensation was followed as quickly with the brute force of a 250 pound linebacker barreling toward her like a freight train. Without any second to think about the consequences of her smart-ass remarks, Santana was being shoved against the back of the wooden booth so hard it knocked the breath out of her slender frame.

Dave pushed her with such force that the cigarette fell from Santana's left hand, landing on her bare foot. She flinched in response to the intense burning, tears welling up in her eyes. _**Holy fuck**_, she thought. She wanted to scream for him to _**calm the fuck down**_, but she couldn't vocalize any sound because of Karofsky's forearm pressing tightly against her throat in what had to be one of his best blocking moves on the football field.

"You shut the fuck up. You shut the fuck up, you hear me! You fucking, bitch!" His words flew at her through clenched teeth.

Santana now understood the fear Kurt had described to the Glee Club members. She remembered seeing uncontrollable fear in his eyes after more than one encounter with this same hulk who had her pinned against a wall right now. She couldn't say anything in response. _Sweet Jesus_, she thought, her mind racing.

She could barely even breathe his grip was so tight. Santana tried to shift her weight underneath him so she could knee him right in the nuts, a move she'd used to her advantage in the past, but she stepped on the hem of her prom gown, losing her balance under Karofsky's weight and sliding down the wall of the booth. They both fell to the ground with a thud.

Santana instinctively used the moment to draw in a deep breath of much-needed air before twisting as best she could to try and wriggle out from under this enormous beast. Dave was drunk, but he was spry enough to grab her just as she pushed away, sending her back down to the pavement with a hard thud and pinning her down with his upper body.

"Stop!" she cried out.

"Oh you're not so bad-ass _now_, are you, bitch?"

"Dave, stop it! Right now! Let go of me, goddammit…," she screamed, punching and clawing at him in the face with her unrestrained arm, "**HELP ME**!"

"I am **NOT** gay! You hear me? It's **ALL LIES**!" He breathed his tainted, hot breath right in Santana's face, his words dripping with self-hate, "I'm not some fucking fairy like Kurt – _**or YOU**_ - do you hear me?"

That declaration called for more self-control than Santana had ever been able to muster. She came in this world as a bad-ass, and she had always been willing to leave it as one.

"YES…YOU…ARE…YOU GAY MOTHERFUCKER!" She screamed right back in Karofsky's face.

His response caught Santana off-guard, even more than the absurdity of David being announced Prom King earlier in the night only to have Kurt Hummel crowned as his Queen. A flash of memory filled Santana's thoughts for an instant of David stomping off the dance floor rather than share a celebratory dance with Kurt. Her thoughts shattered apart as quickly as they came when Karofsky kissed her forcefully, his booze-soaked tongue violating her mouth. He held her tiny frame down with the full weight of his oversized body, continuing to kiss her deeply, tugging painfully at her long dark locks to keep her head still.

Karofsky broke his grasp on her head, and yelled, "Say it now, you cheap whore!"

"Say what, Dave?" she cried, tears streaming down her once perfectly-adorned face. Santana had never had so much go so wrong so fast.

"Say I'm gay now," he oozed the words over her face as a challenge.

"You ARE gay, Dave. _But…_you'll be ok," she tried soothing him through her tears, "we'll _both_ be ok…just stop now, please." When he didn't stop, kissing her hard again, Santana screamed out, "oh god, _**please**_, Dave, stop…**SOMEBODY** **HELP ME**!"

The darkness around her exploded into a white flash of light as he struck her across the top of her head. "**SHUT UP**!" he screamed in her face, forcibly lifting her dress and yanking down her underwear. "I'll _show you_ I'm not gay, you whore!" he declared, parting her slim legs with his body.

Santana slowly stopped fighting against the weight of Karofsky's frame on top of her, the stamina leaving her weakened body. "Stop, Dave…I'm _begging _you…please stop," her voice trailing off, sobbing under the pain of the reality of what he was doing. 

* * *

><p>The side doors to the McKinley High gymnasium were wide open, the bright lights from inside illuminating the night sky. Droves of sweaty, rowdy teenagers poured into the parking lot, heading to their cars.<p>

"Oh my god, that was so much fun," Mercedes yelled as she welcomed the cool breeze of the Ohio spring night. "I think I lost ten pounds on that dance floor tonight!"

"You held up well, Mercedes. You still look just as lovely," Sam told her with a smile. She put an appreciative arm around her date's waist as she caught up to him on the sidewalk.

"That was rockin'! Friday, Friday, gotta get down on Friday…" Puck sang as he played air-guitar.

His date, Lauren, looked him up and down through her thick glasses, "Seriously, dude?"

Puck stuck out his long tongue and shook his head up and down as he continued his air-serenade, knowing it secretly turned Lauren on. He smiled inwardly.

"Hey guys, wait up…" Brittany yelled. "I still can't find Santana, but her keys and phone were still in her locker."

"You remembered her locker combo, Britt?" Kurt asked.

"Yeah. So?" the tall blonde dismissed.

"You've asked the office secretary 20 times or so for your own combo…?" Kurt looked at her confused.

Brittany looked at him blankly and shrugged.

"Britt…" Brittany heard a very hoarse but familiar voice from behind her. She turned around to see an extremely disheveled brunette stumbling down the hill toward her. She met her stride just as Santana fell into her arms.

"Santana, I've looked everywhere for you!" Her arrival was noticed by the gathered group of Glee members.

"I'd say you didn't look in the right places, Brittany," Puck sarcastically observed, "like under the bleachers."

"Where's your other shoe?" the blonde asked her, noticing Santana had only one red pump in her hands.

"Santana? Are you drunk?" Mercedes asked, rolling her eyes as she looked over to the others standing near her.

Santana leaned into Brittany's embrace and whispered, "Britt, would you please help me home?"

"Yeah, sure…" the tall blonde responded, "I already have your keys."

"Good lord, Santana…really?" Quinn approached the group. "Can I get a ride home with somebody? I think I've officially been abandoned by Finn."

"Ouch, Quinn." Tina hugged Mike Chang, appreciating that he was super-reliable and would never leave her somewhere without a ride home.

"Well, he did get kicked out of the dance by Coach Sylvester. Did you expect him to just wait outside this whole time?" Kurt questioned. Kurt was Finn's step-brother, so he felt a natural instinct to come to his defense.

"I expected him to be a gentleman, yes," Quinn retorted, "by first, not starting a fight with Jesse over _Rachel_, second, by not causing me to lose the crown to _YOU_, and third, yes, waiting outside to take me home."

"I don't think it's too much to ask, Quinn" Tina added. Quinn returned an appreciative smile.

"Can we go? Now?" Santana urged.

"Geez, keep your panties on, Lopez," Puck snickered. Puck and Santana had dated and broken up and dated again far too many times for him to have much tolerance for the fierce brunette.

"I feel sick…" Santana starting moving toward the corner of the building, barely reaching it before she threw up…twice. Brittany was right behind her, pulling her friend's hair back as she had dozens of times before.

"Let's go, ok?" the tall blonde said gently, rubbing Santana's back softly. "Quinn, you coming?" she asked as she ushered her weakened confidant past the small group of friends.

"Be sure to crack a window!" Lauren hollered after the former-Cheerios. "I would not want to be in that car tonight," she sarcastically mumbled to the remaining group who nodded in agreement. 

* * *

><p>By the time the three girls reached Santana's white Mustang, Brittany and Quinn were practically carrying the brunette. Brittany paused a moment and shifted the Latina's weight to lean more into her as she handed Quinn the keys, "Q, will you drive?"<p>

"Yeah…no problem." The two blondes were familiar with their co-Cheerio's wilder nature, but Quinn observed a Santana at this moment she'd never seen before. Something about the brunette's appearance and behavior was out of control, bordering on savage even, and relinquishing control was not something Santana allowed.

Brittany opened the passenger side door and pulled the seat forward, gently guiding her best friend into the backseat. Santana collapsed the rest of the distance into the black leather of the rear, feeling the final amount of strength leave her slender legs. Brittany instinctively pushed into the backseat behind her, tenderly sliding Santana over to the other side of the car. The tall blonde reached over her, pulling and locking Santana's seat belt then her own. _Always buckle up_, Brittany intuitively heard her father's cheerful voice remind her.

Quinn cranked the car's engine, and the girls were startled with the blasting sound of the stereo. She reached as fast as her tired arm would move to shut it off before buckling her own seat belt and adjusting the rear-view mirror which Santana had left in a down-angled position, undoubtedly applying one last coat of devil-red lipstick to her plump lips upon arrival earlier in the evening.

Quinn put the Mustang in reverse and did one last check over each shoulder then slowly pulled the car out of its parking space. She merged cautiously into the line of cars heading out of the student lot, trying to get a feel for the handling of Santana's new car. Dr. and Mrs. Lopez had surprised the young beauty only a few months ago with the Mustang for Santana's 17th birthday.

Quinn was still secretly shocked at the gift, since the girls had been in three separate fender-benders in Mrs. Lopez's Lexus with Santana at the wheel. Her lead foot was infamous. The whole Glee Club panicked if Santana was the volunteered driver on outings which only amused the brunette who insisted that was why the "oh, shit!" bar was installed in cars.

As the girls waited inside the car for their turn at pulling out onto the main street, Santana shifted toward Brittany, laying her pounding head on the tall blonde's prominent shoulder. Brittany took in the sensation of the welcomed contact then leaned her head to rest on the top of Santana's. The extra weight struck the brunette in a particularly tender spot, causing her to let out an audible gasp.

"Are you ok, Santana?" Brittany asked in immediate concern.

Santana nodded slightly, lying to her dear friend, her hoarse voice breaking through the dryness of her mouth, "…yeah…I…um…just have a…bad headache." She stumbled over just those few words, each one taking effort she couldn't find.

Brittany could hear the dryness in her voice, and asked Quinn, "Would you hand me that bottle of water from the cup holder?" Quinn unlatched her tight grip from the steering wheel just long enough to reach for the bottle and hand it over her shoulder to the taller blonde.

Brittany uncapped the water and tilted it toward Santana's mouth, "Here sweetie, take a sip." Santana obediently swallowed the lukewarm liquid, appreciating the relief it brought as it soothed her throat. Her mind jumped back to her unheard screams as she fought against the assaults by the guy who began the night as her prom date. McKinley High's Junior Prom King 2011. The thought made Santana subconsciously quiver as fresh, hot tears left her dark brown eyes.

Brittany felt something wet pool on her left shoulder before streaming down her arm. _Is Santana crying_?

"Santana?" she whispered, not wanting to call attention to the brunette's vulnerable moment. Santana didn't answer, silently willing the blonde not to pursue questions. Brittany knew Santana better than she knew herself at times and did not ask again.

Quinn originally anticipated driving first to her house so she could get some sleep and forget this horrible night, but something unsaid pushed her to drive past her subdivision and turn onto Hampton Road that led into Brittany's neighborhood. She eased the Mustang down an adjacent street, making a right then a quick left into the Pierce driveway. She shut off the engine and pulled out the ignition key, turning around to find her passengers asleep.

"Hey, girls…" she put a soft hand on Brittany's long outstretched leg, rousing the taller blonde, "we're here."

"Here?" Brittany asked confused, consciousness slowly returning.

"Your house. Come on." Quinn opened her driver's door and leaned the seat forward after she slid out. She reached into the back, unbuckling Santana's belt. The sound of the metal popping the interior molding as it automatically returned itself woke the brunette with a jolt.

"Stop, please!" she screamed, alarming Brittany and Quinn.

Brittany grabbed her from behind to comfort her, "Santana…." The brunette was taken off guard with the sudden motion and threw her elbow back in a quick, defensive move, hitting Brittany in the face. The tall blonde saw streaks of white light instantly, her hands moving up to clasp her prominent nose.

"Brittany, you ok?" Quinn gasped.

"My nose is bleeding."

Santana's haze slowly lifted as she tried to adjust her senses, bringing her racing thoughts back to the reality of the car.

"Lean your head back," she heard Quinn instruct. _What_? _What's happening_? The night was just one blur after another to the damaged teen.

"San-tan-a…" the smaller blonde repeated slowly with emphasis. Santana's eyes resetting themselves to the dark interior, she turned to her right to see her best friend holding her nose, her face raised upward.

"What's going on?"

"You smacked Britt in the face."

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry…" her voice still struggling to find volume.

"I'm ok," Brittany reassured through a pinched nasal passage.

"Let's get inside before someone calls the cops," Quinn suggested firmly.

_Cops_? _Where were they earlier_, Santana lamented.

She accepted the hand offered her as she slid from the backseat, stepping out onto the pavement of the driveway. Her knees instantly buckled, but she caught herself on the car door, banging her funny bone on its metal. _Fuck…so not funny_, she internally hissed.

The taller blonde slid out on the passenger side and eased the car door shut, trying to avoid any further commotion in the late night. She moved toward the front door in an awkward position, trying to keep her head back while simultaneously fishing her house key out of her small handbag. She could feel and taste the thick, hot fluid still trickling down the back of her throat. She finally fit the key in its small hole and turned it to open the heavy wooden door just as Quinn stepped up on the front porch with her arm supporting a still clearly shaky Santana.

The girls moved inside the Pierce house, Brittany flipping on a table lamp and Quinn easing Santana down onto the couch. Quinn had been inside the Pierce home so many times, she went straight to the kitchen and opened the freezer, removing a small bag of frozen peas and returning to the living room.

"Here…" she said, slightly tossing the bag to the oldest Pierce child, "put that on your face. It'll help with any bruising." 

* * *

><p>Lauren and Puck waved goodbye to Kurt as he lowered himself inside Blaine's car to leave the school. Lauren was a large girl, but even she was beginning to suffer the chill of the Ohio night air. She shivered slightly as she turned to Puck who was sitting on a bricked half-wall that read "William McKinley High School".<p>

"So…that was fun," she admitted.

"Even though we lost?" he smirked, knowing he personally couldn't care less about being junior prom king and queen.

"Yeah…" she smiled back, "Guess it just wasn't our year. Maybe next time."

Puck winked at his robust date, hopeful that there would be a next time and noting again to himself how beautiful she looked in her navy prom gown. As thoughts of what unchartered curves could be found under all that navy, he felt his left earlobe being painfully yanked, forcing him backwards over the half-wall then into an upright position.

"Listen up, you titillating libertine with your oddly-shapen hair…" a familiar voice growled into his throbbing ear. "I know you were the rebel with a cause behind the poorly-devised, laughably-executed attempt at spiking my annual Sylvester-family prom punch."

Puck stroked the top of his Mohawk, reexamining his current level of bad-assness, as Sue Sylvester, coach of the Cheerios squad and the night's designated prom advisor, continued to hurl insults inches from his stubbled face. His eyes cut to Lauren, making eye contact with his lovely lady who nodded in quiet approval, causing the corners of his mouth to turn upward in his typical bad-boy grin.

"…you do shoddy work, Mister…you despicable yet disturbingly-erotic degenerate…" Coach Sylvester trailed off when she realized her captive audience was more interested in each other than the threat she was making. "Puckerman!"

Puck startled at the sheer volume Coach Sylvester's grating voice could abruptly achieve.

Coach Sylvester shoved a glass bottle into his chest, "You can return this confiscated item to your mole on wheels and remind him that the next time I catch him anywhere near my punchbowl or any other buffet table _and or_ snack booth at this school, I personally will load him and his wheelchair in my large-capacity, State-of-Ohio-issued Cheerios van and drive him to the edge of Lake Lima…_**and push him in**_!"

Puck swallowed hard at the thought of poor Artie at the mercy of this bitter lunatic. Coach Sylvester could smell his rising fear and knew she finally had Noah Puckerman, McKinley High's resident punk, right where she wanted him. Puck may not give a rat's ass about his own student record at this school, but he did look out for wheelchair-bound Artie Abrams. She leaned in for emphasis and slowly whispered in a low guttural tone, "…and I will _laugh_ as he sinks."

With that revelation, Sue Sylvester turned with all the dramatic flair of an evil super-villain from fictional Gotham City and vanished up the grassy hill.

Puck, lost in thoughts of Artie sinking to the bottom of Lake Lima, unscrewed the top off the glass bottle and tipped it to take a swig of the clear liquid that had been intended for the prom punch earlier in the evening. "Ugh…what the hell?" he grimaced at the taste.

Lauren grabbed the bottle, taking an equally sizable swallow, "Lemonade?" Puck shrugged.

"Artie tried to spike the punch with…Lemonade?"

"It was supposed to be Gin."

They both laughed and turned to walk toward one of the two remaining vehicles in the student lot. They saw a disheveled David Karofsky fumbling with his keys at the door of the other car.

"Congratulations, Karofsky!" Puck's sarcasm toward his fellow Prom King candidate was intended.

"You've finally been crowned King of McKinley," Lauren exclaimed. "Now you can head off to Disney World to celebrate with the other princesses," she added, knowing nothing of the hidden truth behind the jab.

David was starting to sober after his binge of Johnnie Walker he had earlier, but his rage had not dissipated yet. "What the fuck did you say to me, tubbo?"

Puck threw up a quick forearm to block his date's physical response, "Whoa...he's not worth it, Lauren."

Lauren thought it was pretty rich of this over-sized oaf to use _that_ insult in reply, but she'd heard all the fat jokes in the book. Many times, from many people. The array of insults always appeared smugly-satisfying to the name caller until the state-champion, wrestling-titleholder cracked a nut or two. She smiled at Puck who was watching her for a reaction. David Karofsky wasn't even worth wrinkling her navy dress tonight.

"Have a good night, King Karofsky." Lauren gave him a shit-eating grin then grabbed her bad-ass date by the hand, "Come on, Puck…let's go to my house." Puck smiled at the endless possibilities. 

* * *

><p>David shook his head as the black truck pulled away, leaving him alone at the door of his car, fists still clenched. He tried again with pushing the key into the lock, mentally willing his hands to stop shaking. He got the key in on the fourth attempt, throwing open the driver's door and falling into the seat, slamming the car's door shut behind him.<p>

He paused a moment. _Was any of this even real_? _Where had this night gone so out of control_? He looked down at the bent "golden" crown in his bloodied hands, noticing one of the fake gems had fallen off. _**Fuck**_! _This whole night was stupid_…_and fake._ He started the ignition and buzzed down his driver's window to let some of the suffocating air escape.

He looked up at himself in the rear-view mirror, ashamed of the person looking back at him. _This is all so fucking fake… just like me_. He threw the crown hard against the passenger window, but its hollow weight only bounced off the glass and flew back, whacking him in the head. He pounded the steering wheel with all his reserved strength. He examined the dried blood on his over-sized hands.

_**Fuck you, Santana**_**!** His world was just fine, in his opinion, until she forced her way into it. He pounded the wheel over and over. _Fuck you, Fuck you, Fuck you._ He threw the car in drive and floored it out of the parking lot.

"FUCK YOU, MCKINLEY!" he screamed out the open window. 

* * *

><p>Quinn sat curled in a comfy floral chair in the corner of Brittany's bedroom, dozing under the warmth of the blanket covering her muscular frame. She'd taken off her blue prom dress with its sparkly, beaded bodice and neatly laid it over the back of the desk chair, replacing the elegant attire with a pair of Brittany's red athletic shorts and a white t-shirt that read Mid-Western Regional 2009 Cheer Team Champions.<p>

Quinn had one just like it in her drawer at home. Quinn still ached with how much she missed being head Cheerio. She loved everything about the position and even thrived on Coach Sylvester's daily tirades and insults. The absurdity of the coach's statements is what drove Quinn to achieve.

She knew she was better than what that woman reduced them to each day…_hell, we're better than what her opinion of all of us is_, she thought proudly. Quinn had been Coach's young protégée and her secret weapon, both at school and in competitions. That is, until Puck got Quinn pregnant last year. Quinn knew her situation was nothing but a show of personal weakness to the Cheerios' Coach. And Sue Sylvester never let her live it down.

The bathroom door opened, streaming artificial light into the darkened bedroom. Quinn stirred out of her exhausted haze, looking up as Brittany walked toward her and sat cross-legged on the chair's ottoman. The green-eyed beauty looked over at the digital clock on Brittany's nightstand. 1:03AM. Quinn could hear water running in the bathroom.

"How is Santana?" Quinn yawned and stretched her arms.

"She's going to take a shower." Brittany had changed out of her lime green dress into gray sweat pants and a soft blue thermal, her long blonde hair now pulled back into a practical pony-tail and her make-up cleaned from her face, exposing her freckles.

"Did you ever hear from Finn?" she inquired.

"He left me a voice message earlier."

"…and?" She waited for his explanation of events.

"I deleted it." Quinn said matter-of-factly.

Quinn watched Brittany as she played absent-mindedly with one of her cuticles, seemingly unaware that her body language gave away her mounting concern for their dark-haired friend.

A few moments of silence past between the girls. "Q, did you notice anything…_weird_…about Santana? After the dance, I mean?"

"You mean _other than_ the fact that she's fall-down drunk…on school grounds?" Quinn was always conscious of appearances.

"I don't think she is though."

Quinn looked across at her friend. "Britt, you can smell the alcohol…and cigarette smoke…all over her."

"She's not drunk though. I talked to her…I know how she is when she's been drinking."

True, Brittany would know, Quinn thought. "Okay…?"

"Her dress is ripped in several places."

"It happens."

"Well, but…she told me when she brought that dress home she was going to return it right after the dance…before her mom would see the charge," Brittany recalled, trying to reason through her doubts. "And, I know she was being extra careful all night. She wouldn't even come out to the center of the dance floor with me cause she worried someone would step on it."

Quinn shrugged, lost for comment.

The door of the bathroom cracked open a little wider, and the girls turned to see Santana peeking around the door uncharacteristically modest.

"Britt, do you have any aspirin?" The brunette's voice barely carried across the room.

"Yeah, it's in the medicine cabinet, second shelf."

"I looked in there and didn't see any."

Brittany hopped up from her seat to double check, reminding herself she'd meant to take a couple of aspirin too to ease the dull throbbing in her face. She pushed on the bathroom door as she reached it, meeting immediate resistance from the other side.

"Tan, let me in so I can check."

"No."

"Santana?" the tall blonde laughed at her best friend's sudden act of modesty. She'd known Santana her whole life, been in athletics and dance with her, she'd seen everything the young Latina had to offer…_and then some_, Brittany thought with a smile.

"You can't see me."

"Sure I can…you're standing right there, silly."

Quinn was curious too at this unusual side of Santana. "I think I have some in my purse, Britt."

"Oh, but I left it down in the living room," the smaller blonde stood up and approached the bathroom, "…do you need me to go downstairs and grab it?"

"Nevermind." Santana's whole demeanor was filled with defeat.

The light inside the bathroom was bright, and from Quinn's angle she could see the side of her dark-haired friend. She was unclothed, trying to maintain her privacy behind the white wooden door, but Quinn finally saw what it was she was hiding.

"Santana…" Quinn exclaimed, "…holy hell, what happened to you tonight?"

Santana froze under the direct questioning.

"What are you talking about, Quinn?" Brittany asked, confused.

"I'm talking about this…" Quinn gave a sharp shove on the door, catching the brunette off-guard, allowing the barrier to cave in on her.

Santana stood there, naked, exposed, revealing a huge purple and blue bruise that covered her entire right hip. Not visible to her friends was the hard knot forming underneath the discolored skin.

Once inside the bathroom though, the two blondes saw the full extent of Santana's unintended revelation. She had a huge bite mark on the soft flesh of her left breast. There was a trail of smaller bruises around Santana's pelvis and along her neck and shoulders. Brittany's eyes grew wide in horror as she realized the darkish streaks down the brunette's inner thighs appeared to be dried blood.

"Santana…I…" Brittany's soft voice trailed off as she choked back tears.

Quinn looked past the brunette's exposed figure, seeing Santana's reflection in the vanity mirror. There were long red scrapes up and down her backside.

The brunette collapsed to the bathroom tile under the intense scrutiny. Both girls moved quickly to brace her fall, Brittany catching her in her arms, lowering her slowly.

Brittany wanted to somehow physically comfort Santana as the teen's sobs finally broke free, but she was agonizingly hesitant, not knowing where to touch her that wouldn't bring Santana more pain. All she knew to do was rub Santana's dark raven hair and gently rock her, trying to envelop her in a cocoon of solace and love.

"Santana, you need to tell us who did this to you." Quinn was firm but compassionate.

Only sobs answered her.

"Santana, you're safe now," Brittany tried, "you can tell us what happened so we know how to help you."

"I…I…can't…" her voice cracked.

Quinn stood to grab the folded towel that was on the corner of the vanity, bending again to wrap it around the brunette's trembling shoulders. Brittany assisted, bringing the fluffy, oversized towel around Santana's front, tucking it on the side and returning some of the broken girl's dignity.

Quinn lifted her friend's chin with a soft touch, "What happened?"

"I was…," she paused, flashes of the events flooding her thoughts and emotions so fast she felt light-headed. "I…was…oh god…I was _raped_," she cried as she blacked out. 

* * *

><p>Santana heard Quinn and Brittany's muffled voices before her eyelids fluttered open. She wasn't sure exactly what just happened or how much time had passed, but she was no longer on the bathroom floor. She was lying under a blanket on Brittany's bed, still wrapped in a pink bath towel. She looked across the dimly-lit room to see two blonde heads bobbing close together in serious discussion.<p>

She sat up slightly, pushing herself up on her elbows. "Britt? Quinn?"

The blonde heads turned toward her, both had tears streaming down their faces. Brittany was at her side within seconds. "Hey…" the tall girl gave her a light but reassuring hug.

"I'm sorry," Santana didn't know what to say at this point.

"No, what are you sorry for?" Brittany asked sweetly.

"I never meant to drag you two into my mess."

"Stop it, we're your friends, San…" Quinn added, "We want to help you."

Santana smiled at her former co-Cheerios. Their presence did actually bring her comfort.

"Santana? Will you please tell us who did this to you?" Quinn asked again.

The brunette hesitated, thoughts flying through her head. _Did I cause this_? _Could I get arrested for trespassing into the stadium_? _Will he come after me again if I say something_?

"Santana?" Quinn leaned in closer to her. "You're hurt. We need to get you to the hospital where they can examine you," she paused, "but they'll have to know who assaulted you."

The word _assaulted_resonated within the four walls of the small bedroom. Santana looked into Quinn's green eyes. She saw genuine concern. She looked up into the warm blue eyes that always brought her peace. Brittany smiled a smile that only she could make. In that one gesture, Santana saw encouragement, acceptance…protection. The brunette took in a deep, shaky breath, "It was Karofsky."

Quinn moved quickly toward the dresser, picking up the black flip phone sitting on top.

"Wait, what are you doing?" Santana panicked, throwing the blanket off of her.

"Calling the police," she motioned with the phone.

"NO! Stop…please." Santana pleaded. "You can't call them."

"That maniac is out on the streets right now. He could hurt somebody else." Quinn rationalized.

"No, please…" she pleaded, "you can't call…no, you can't tell anyone, noooo." Things were spinning even further out of Santana's control, threatening to zap the young girl of her last bit of mental stability.

From behind, Brittany wrapped her long arms around Santana, "we won't…please calm down, honey…shhh, calm down…shhh."

Santana allowed herself to surrender to the spiritual balm she felt radiating from Brittany's body into her own, slowing her breathing and relaxing her tense muscles, easing herself back onto the bed next to the person who meant the most to her in the world.

Time seemed to stand still for a few moments as Quinn watched the taller blonde calm the wreck of a girl before her. The pause was broken with a light knock on the bedroom door.

"Is everything ok in there, girls?"

Quinn recognized the muffled voice as Mrs. Pierce.

"We're alright, Mrs. P," Quinn responded, trying to present a light-hearted atmosphere.

"It's very late," the voice reminded.

Quinn looked down at the time on the phone in her hand. 1:48AM.

"We're winding down, Mom," Brittany offered, "Goodnight."

"Night, girls." The hallway went silent.

Quinn turned back to Santana, "I'm sorry to push this, but we're running out of time here."

The other girls stared blankly at her.

The shorter blonde, narrowed her green-eyes toward Santana, clearly hesitant to distress her any further. "You are losing your window of opportunity…to…um…_collect_ valuable evidence," she stammered.

"I don't care," she responded, "besides…nobody will believe me anyway."

"Of course they will," Brittany encouraged.

"Santana, they can conduct a thorough exam at the hospital if we go _now_." Quinn was starting to sound exasperated. It made no sense to her not to press charges against that monster.

"To find out what…?" Santana was growing tired of being pressured to pursue anything more about this awful night. At this point, she only wanted to forget.

"They can collect hair and semen samples…to _prove_ he did this." Quinn had watched her fair share of Law & Order reruns toward the end of her pregnancy.

Santana rose as quickly as her shattered body would allow, pushing past the well-intended former head cheerleader and retreating back into the bathroom, locking its door behind her.

Quinn locked eyes with Brittany and sighed heavily.

"Just stop, ok?" the taller blonde demanded, "You're torturing her at this point."

"I'm _trying_ to protect her."

"You're looking at this through your eyes, Quinn. Have some respect for what she wants! God!" Brittany brushed past the shorter girl to check on Santana.

Quinn had never witnessed Brittany raise her voice. She quietly grabbed her blanket and a pillow, opening the bedroom door to head downstairs to the couch. Privacy was all she knew to give Santana at this point. 

* * *

><p>Brittany lightly knocked on the bathroom door, "Santana?" No answer. "It's just me now…Quinn went downstairs to sleep." A minute past before she heard the door unlatch from the inside. The tall blonde turned the knob and slowly pushed it open. Santana was sitting on the floor with her knees pulled up against her chest, still wrapped in the towel, her head buried in shame.<p>

Without saying a word, Brittany took a clean washcloth from the cabinet and wet it in some warm, soapy water. She bent her long, slender legs to sit next to Santana, lifting up her hung head. She softly wiped the right side of Santana's face then the left side, looking deeply into the Latina's dark-brown eyes which were empty tonight. Brittany's soul ached for her.

She raised her left hand to untuck the top part of Santana's towel, pausing a moment, seeking unarticulated permission. Santana's head twitched in acquiescence. As the top of the towel fell, Brittany used the washcloth to trace the outline of the red, raised bite mark on Santana's breast. Seeing that Santana's skin was broken under the residual outline of teeth, Brittany raised up to open a drawer on the vanity, removing a small tube of ointment and a cotton ball. She squeezed a small amount onto the white ball and gently dabbed it along the broken skin.

The young blonde stood again to rinse the washcloth under the warm water, applying fresh soap then she kneeled back before the brunette. She opened more of the towel and tenderly helped the Latina relax her legs. Brittany used the warm, wet cloth to wipe some of the dried maroon streaks, raising her eyes to look at Santana, monitoring her for the least sign of apprehension. Brittany could see as she moved one of the injured teen's legs that some fresh blood had soaked onto the pink towel, sounding the blonde's internal alarm.

"Tan, you're still bleeding a little. _Please_ let us get you some help," she urged gently.

"I can't, Britt…please understand…I just _can't_," she quietly pleaded.

Brittany put her arms around her best friend, pulling her close while fighting internally to adhere to Santana's wishes or to wake her mom and force the broken Latina to seek help.

"Would it be ok to take a bath?" Santana asked weakly.

"It's your decision," Brittany said against better judgment.

"Will you…help…me," she requested, looking into caring blue eyes.

"Of course…," the blonde assured her, "let me run some water for you."

Brittany moved toward the tub to start filling it with water, and out of habit, almost added lavender-scented bath salts as she always did for her own baths but stopped in her tracks, reminding herself of the damage Santana had suffered tonight. Fresh tears formed, and she discreetly wiped the corners of her beautiful blue eyes before turning to pull a fresh towel from the cabinet.

Brittany helped Santana stand and discard her soiled towel then lowered her gently into the warm water. Santana let out a sharp, involuntary gasp as her body met the water.

"Shhh...it's ok," Brittany reassured her, knowing the reaction was not because the water was too hot.

"It burns," Santana confessed.

"Do you want me to give you some privacy now?" Brittany tenderly stroked the back of Santana's head.

"Don't leave me, please." Santana grabbed Brittany by the arm.

"No…no, I won't…I'll stay with you as long as you need me."

"I just want his…_filth_…off me, Britt…."

"I know, honey." Brittany used a fresh soapy cloth to bathe Santana's back and shoulders. She wanted to soothe her as much as possible under the circumstances, realizing the amount of trust the fragile girl was granting her. She could still smell the remnants of cigarette smoke in the Latina's hair as she leaned over her. Using a cup from the counter, she wet the dark hair then gently washed it with her favorite shampoo.

Brittany paused briefly as the moment arrived to clean between Santana's legs. The violation seemed too great to the sensitive blonde so she applied more soap to the cloth and placed it in the brunette's hand. Santana silently cleaned herself, tears streaming down her weary face. Brittany diverted her eyes out of quiet respect but saw the clear water turn pink.

She placed a spirit-mending kiss in the middle of Santana's bare back, "Promise me you'll make a doctor's appointment this week."

There was no response.

"Please…" she tried.

"Ok."

"Promise?"

"I promise," Santana whispered, visibly shivering, water droplets falling from her dark, wet hair.

The blonde reached for the clean towel, "Let's get you dried off and into some warm clothes."

A few minutes later, Santana stepped into an oversized pair of red plaid pajama bottoms and a fitted gray t-shirt she had pulled from her Cheerios duffle bag. She had no way of knowing the hell that would play out at the school when she packed the bag earlier in the evening.

Santana ran a brush through her long dark hair, allowing it to air-dry some more. She turned off the bathroom light, leaving Brittany's bedroom lit only by an outside street lamp. She could see the silhouette of her best friend lying on the bed. Unexpectedly a flash of memory flooded her mind, returning her to the underside of the dark bleachers…the outline of a dark figure moving toward her…shouting…being propelled against a hard surface…pressure in her throat…gasping for air…intense pain in her groin…trying to scream out.

"Santana?" Brittany's familiar voice yanked her back to the present.

The brunette moved toward the bed, her pulse racing. She crawled under the covers next to Brittany and laid her head on the tall girl's chest, wrapping a slender arm tightly around the blonde's waist. Brittany asked no more questions, sensing Santana's needs now were primitive. Brittany held her close and kissed the top of her head. Santana lost herself in the rhythmic beat of Brittany's heart, having no more tears left to cry, she slowly drifted into sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Her Smile Heals Me (part 2)**

William Shuester slung his canvas messenger bag over his left shoulder and straightened out his gray sweater-vest in the back as he moved purposefully across the staff parking lot of McKinley High. He was eager to hear from his students in Glee Club how they thought Friday night's prom performances went. The kids had been hesitant at first to be enlisted as their junior prom entertainment, especially with the group's nerves mounting about their upcoming travels to New York City to compete in the Show Choir National's competition. Will had faith in his group's focus and felt the kids could handle the prom as a way to earn additional travel money. He was, though, admittedly shaken by the drama from Friday night's prom king and queen announcement when he received a text from the school's guidance counselor, Emma Pillsbury.

Will looked down at his watch. 7:47AM. _Damn_… The first bell would be ringing in three minutes so he quickened his pace.

"Hello, William," he heard Principal Figgins' deep, accented voice the moment he walked through the entrance.

"Good morning." Will released a slow sigh. _Yep, I'll be late_…

"Congratulations to the Glee Club. They were an excellent substitution for The Air Supply," he complimented, referencing the prom's originally-slated entertainment, "Be sure to stop by my office by day's end to pick up the check for $400."

"Thank you, Principal Figgins…definitely!" Will nodded and kept walking, reaching the door of his Spanish classroom as the first bell rang. 

* * *

><p>Movement in the hallway of McKinley High was thick between classes. Finn Hudson was tall enough though that he could see over the tops of the heads of all the other students. He saw a familiar blonde pulling out a white sweater from her locker and navigated a path toward her.<p>

"Are you still not talking to me?" he asked as he leaned a broad shoulder against a locker.

Quinn Fabray looked up at the handsome McKinley quarterback. Her anger had faded since Friday…somewhat.

"You acted like an idiot, fighting like you did with Jesse."

"You're right."

"…over _Rachel_?"

"I'm very sorry, Quinn."

"You _embarrassed_ me," she emphasized, looking around the hallway, ever-concerned with her image in the eyes of her classmates.

"I didn't think about anyone but myself."

"You abandoned me," the beautiful blonde whispered, her hurt showing.

"You deserved better," Finn admitted. "Please let me make it up to you?"

Before the former head cheerleader could process Finn's request, she looked up to see the two biggest varsity linebackers in their red Titan team jackets parting the crowded hallway as they walked down its center. Quinn's pulse quickened as her heart started pounding in her chest. She felt blood rushing to her face as her rage swelled and her eyes narrowed.

"Ladies…" the darker football player acknowledged the couple as they passed the lockers.

"You're as funny as always, Z…," Finn dismissed the insult.

"I am so glad you think so." Azimio paused long enough to push Finn into the locker with his giant shoulder. "Oh no, I didn't…."

He laughed loudly, looking toward his fellow linebacker for approval. David Karofsky just stood there, his eyes downcast.

"Help me out here, Karofsky! You're supposed to prevent this kind of crap," Finn reminded his teammate, referring to David's recent commitment to captain The Bully Whips, an anti-bullying campaign at McKinley.

Before David could respond, Quinn slapped him hard across the cheek. "How dare you show your face today at this school!"

"Quinn!" Finn startled. He mumbled under his breath, "I can handle this."

"Whoa there, Rocky…" Azimio was almost amused at the small blonde's spunk.

"What the hell was that for?" David asked, rubbing his stinging face.

"I know!" She looked straight into his eyes and hissed, "…and, you won't get away with it. I assure you."

"What is she talking about, Karofsky," Azimio asked?

"Nothing," Karofsky insisted.

"Liar!" Quinn loudly challenged, several heads turning in their direction. Quinn regrouped, not wanting to hurt Santana by breaching her privacy, and leaned forward to whisper to David, "You _will _pay for what you did."

David Karofsky felt sweat form on his brow as he flushed under the direct condemnation. He had tried to block out the events of Friday night. He could not remember all the details once he had sobered Saturday morning. He certainly did not anticipate Santana telling things to her friends. _Stupid, Dave_…he self-scolded.

He mirrored Quinn's whispered tone, "I don't know what you think you know…but…all I'll say is..." He swallowed hard, "…it was consensual."

Quinn was appalled. "Consensual doesn't leave a person black and blue…and _bleeding_." Quinn slammed her locker door and walked away, shaking.

David's memory flashed back to his blood-stained hands. A feeling of disgust washed over him.

"What the hell is that about?" Finn was confused. He looked at Azimio who shrugged indifferently. They both turned to look back at Karofsky who had already walked away. 

* * *

><p>Artie Abrams wheeled through the door of the choir room, turned his wheelchair and backed it into an empty spot in front of the risers.<p>

"Dude, where'd you go Friday night?" Sam asked him.

"I got caught by Coach Sylvester."

"Caught? Doing what?" Mercedes asked.

"Spiking the punch."

"The punch was spiked?" Mr. Shuester asked for clarification.

"Well, not exactly…" Artie trailed off as his ex-girlfriend, Brittany, entered the room and sat down on a row behind him. Her presence still took his breath away.

Mr. Shuester shook his head, not always understanding his students. "Hey, Brittany…" he approached the tall blonde, "is Santana sick? She wasn't in Spanish class."

"She wasn't in math class either, Mr. Shue." Mercedes added.

"She wasn't feeling good this weekend," she responded.

"Too much partying after prom?" Puck suggested. The rest of the class snickered.

"You guys are being mean," Brittany defended her best friend.

The truth was Brittany did not know where Santana was or how she was feeling at this point. She had not spoken to the young Latina since they fell asleep in the early hours of Saturday morning. By the time the blonde woke, Santana had already left her house. Quinn didn't see her leave either even though she was asleep on the downstairs couch.

Brittany had texted and left multiple voice messages until Santana's cell phone was full. The only reason she refrained from going over to the Lopez house on Sunday to check on her was out of respect for her dear friend's privacy, unsure if Santana had said anything to her parents. Brittany only hesitated because she did not want to make the horrible situation worse for Santana.

"Mr. Shuester," a loud, determined voice pierced the sedate mood of the choir room, "now that we've tried our wings as paid performers, I must insist that we regroup and refocus on our goal at hand. Nationals!"

"I could not agree with you more, Rachel." He drew in a deep, calming breath as he did every time his most challenging student spoke. "Let's get started, class."

The bell signaling the start of class rang, as Quinn walked through, pulling the door shut.

"Take a seat, Quinn. We're going to pick up where we left off last week before prom interrupted."

Instead of climbing up to the back row of the risers to sit next to Finn, Quinn stopped short and sat to the left of Brittany on the second row. Rachel Berry smiled and looked down at her notebook.

"Ok, class…I was so impressed with the original songs you guys wrote and performed at Regionals," he began. "I think the lyrics you composed really captured the angst you've all felt as outsiders…_however_...I don't know that you all are reaching deeply enough when you perform."

The sound of the door to the room clicking open interrupted the start of Will's lesson. He turned to see a flash of red hair appear as Emma Pillsbury stuck her head through the cracked door.

"Will, may I see you a moment?"

"Yes, of course," he smiled. "Class, please start your warm ups while I speak to Ms. Pillsbury."

The sound of piano scales started then the sound of voices in unison quickly joined as Will stepped into the hallway, pulling the door closed behind him.

Standing with the guidance counselor was Santana Lopez.

"I found her in the janitor's closet when I went to get more hand sanitizer." Emma added under her breath, "She was _very_ upset."

They both looked at the young brunette who sniffed and looked away.

"Santana, were you in there all morning? Nobody's seen you in class today," Mr. Shuester asked.

Silence.

Emma looked up at Will with her large eyes and shook her head, "I've asked what's upsetting her, but she doesn't seem comfortable talking about it."

"I'm fine," she said blankly.

"You don't look fine, Santana," Will observed.

"Can we just move on?" The questions were too much for the young girl who had been trying to find the courage all morning just to go to her classes. Santana had pushed herself into normalcy ever since her alarm went off at six o'clock this morning. She sat in her car in the student lot over an hour before she could get her legs to carry her inside the school. She made it down one hallway before seeing Quinn and Finn talking to Dave Karofsky this morning. The sight of him overpowered her mental resolve, forcing her to seek solitude in the hall closet. She lost track of time until Ms. Pillsbury discovered her.

The two adults looked at the teenager. Santana shifted awkwardly under their scrutiny, tugging on the long sleeves of her oversized shirt.

"Ok, please find a seat then." Will looked again at Emma, seeing the same concern in her eyes that he felt for Santana.

The door to the choir room opened again and a hush fell over the group as Santana and Mr. Shuester walked in.

Quinn's eyes darted to Brittany as giggles and chatter spread around the choir room.

"Ok, everybody…settle down…where was I…?"

"Mr. Shuester, if I may?" Rachel Berry's hand flew up.

"Go ahead, Rachel…"

"Fellow Glee Clubbers…this is a pivotal time for our little family as we finalize our preparations for nationals…"

"Here we go…" Kurt mumbled, rolling his eyes.

"And…as your co-captain, I would like to take this opportunity to gently remind each of us that tardiness will only hurt the cohesiveness of this group."

"That's enough, Rachel," Mr. Shuester quieted.

"No wait…," Santana spoke, "Is that directed at me, Berry?"

The two brunettes had a volatile history, especially after Santana slept with Finn last year, a fact Rachel did not discover until months later when she was finally dating Finn.

"Rachel, I think you should mind your own business," Quinn added, flatly.

"Why don't you stay out of it, Quinn," Finn defended.

"Why does it not surprise me that you would side with _**her**_…."

"I'm just saying…" Finn started.

"Why don't you _all_ mind your own business and just shut up…" no-nonsense Mercedes interrupted.

"ENOUGH!" Mr. Shuester scolded.

Brittany quietly reached across to supportively rub Santana's arm. The Latina beauty looked ragged today. Brittany noticed her eyes were puffy as though she'd been crying a lot. She was shocked to see her at school actually, but Brittany saw Santana had chosen an outfit that hid the scratches and bruises the blonde knew were covering her body.

Santana simply looked down at her folded arms, trying to tune out the rising voices.

"Now I know your stress levels are up with end of the year exams and with us readying for competition, but this is the kind of in-fighting that we cannot resort to at this point," Mr. Shuester urged. "As I was getting to earlier, I want you to take all of this extra energy you all are feeling and put into song. I feel strongly that we must tap into the underlying emotions of the songs we perform," he continued, "and in order to delve deeper into those emotions…this week, I want you each to pick a song that lyrically speaks to the most important person in your life right now…whoever that person or persons may be."

"So…you want us to sing our selection to this person?" Tina asked for clarification, turning to smile at Mike Chang who squeezed her hand in return.

"That's up to you," Mr. Shuester explained, "Bottom line, class…you pick the one song that expresses your innermost, deepest feelings then sing it for the group."

Murmurs started among the Glee members, most of them excited about the challenge Mr. Shue laid before them, as the bell rang, ending class.

As the students stood to leave, William Shuester added, "I expect to see you dig deep on this assignment, guys, and really stretch yourselves in these final days before New York." 

* * *

><p>Santana moved toward her locker, apprehensively looking down the hallway at the other students passing, fearful she would cross paths with Karofsky. <em>Why am I even here<em>…she quizzed herself.

"Hey…" Brittany said, coming up behind her.

"Hey," Santana said flatly.

"I've been so worried about you. Why didn't you call me back at some point?"

Santana shrugged. She had not intended to block out her dear friend. Brittany's comfort was the only thing that saved her from the abyss Friday night.

"Did you make a doctor's appointment?"

"Not yet…."

"Remember you promised?"

"I remember," Santana replied harshly.

Brittany's face fell.

"I will, Britt…," Santana softened, "I promise."

"Is there anything I can do for you?"

Santana shook her head. "You've done so much already. More than you know," she smiled at the tall blonde.

It was the first smile Brittany remembered seeing on the brunette's beautiful face since early Friday evening. "Just let me know, ok?"

Santana reached for Brittany's hand, "Thank you."

Brittany smiled back.

Artie wheeled up behind Puck as he strutted down the hallway to last period.

"I need your help."

Puck looked down as Artie caught up to him, "Moi?"

"Yeah…you kind of…_owe_ me"

"How do you figure that?" Puckerman owed nobody nothing. "You're the one who blew the whole plan of attack on Friday. Lemonade? Really, dude?"

"I was merely improvising…but the whole thing was your idea," Artie reminded, "It was a bad plan from the outset."

"Now you're insulting my criminal prowess?"

"I almost lost my teeth, man!"

Puck laughed, picturing Coach Sylvester yanking out Artie's teeth. "Ok, what do you need from me?"

"I need your…_expertise…_of women…to get Brittany back," Artie pleaded.

Puck laughed again. He had spent a lot of time with Santana over the last three years, and there was one thing Puck knew with certainty…wherever Santana was, Brittany was.

"Three's a crowd, Artie," Puck warned.

"I've thought about that," Artie said sadly, "and…I'm cool with _whatever_ time Brittany spends with Santana."

Puck looked down at the woeful teen. "Ok, my friend, we'll brainstorm that one tonight. Your place, 7pm. Your dad better have beer in the fridge."

"Awesome." Artie smiled awkwardly. 

* * *

><p>"A double mocha decaf…" Mercedes ordered, stepping up to the counter at The Lima Bean coffee shop. She smiled widely to Sam who was standing off to the side, his hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans. "What's your drink order?" she asked him.<p>

"I'm not…no, I…um…don't like coffee," he stammered, his fair skin lightly flushing.

"You don't have to get _coffee_," Mercedes laughed, not remembering Sam's tight budget since his father lost his job.

He jingled the coins in his pants pocket. "Maybe just…water?" Sam regretted joining the group of friends after school.

Mercedes turned back to the cashier. "And a hot chocolate for my friend," she added, remembering how much Sam liked it. "My treat," she winked at the uncomfortable blond who smiled appreciatively.

Once their drinks were prepared, Mercedes and Sam walked over to the large table where Kurt, Blaine, Tina and Mike Chang were already seated.

Sam politely pulled out one of the two remaining chairs and motioned for Mercedes to take a seat before sitting down between her and Mike Chang.

Kurt smiled keenly across the table at Mercedes, knowing Sam was all his dear friend had talked about since Friday's prom.

Mercedes smiled and took a sip of her coffee.

"Finn and Quinn seem to still be on the outs," Kurt was updating Blaine on the Glee gossip, "They didn't speak at lunch, and she didn't sit near him in Glee rehearsal today."

"That should make Rachel happy," Blaine observed.

"So what's the deal with Santana and Karofsky?" Tina asked.

"What do you mean?" Mercedes asked for clarification. Kurt and Blaine shifted in their seats, exchanging uneasy glances. It was clear to them that the Glee Club did not know Karofsky was gay.

"It's just weird," Tina stated, "and now that he won Prom King and she didn't…well, it's even weirder, don't you think?"

"I don't know…Santana's been weird in general lately," Sam added, having been the one Santana broke up with to begin her sudden romance with Karofsky.

"I'm just surprised Brittany isn't putting up more of a fight over that pairing," Blaine said.

Kurt cut his eyes toward him as soon as he finished his statement then lightly kicked him under the table.

"What?" he mouthed toward Kurt, thinking what he said was public knowledge.

Mercedes and Tina looked at each other with raised eyebrows, amused that someone said the obvious out loud, then the girls both looked over at Mike Chang who smiled sheepishly.

"Hold up…what are you saying?" Sam asked, confused by the silence that hung over the table of friends.

Kurt and Blaine both reached for their coffee cups at the same time, each taking a long sip.

"Wait…Brittany and Santana?" Sam asked, looking around the table at each of the others. 

* * *

><p>Brittany adjusted the backpack on her shoulders and walked through the door of her history class Tuesday morning. She was pleasantly surprised to see Santana sitting at their assigned table.<p>

"Hi…" Brittany smiled as she sat in the seat next to the brunette who was reading a section in her history book.

"Hey, Britt," she responded, returning the smile.

"Are you ready for this test?" The tall blonde was always nervous when having to recall textbook information. Usually, Santana would study with her to help her feel prepared, but the brunette had secluded herself the last few days.

"Not really…," Santana admitted, closing her book in defeat.

Brittany slid her left hand across the table so that it touched the edge of Santana's, trying not to generate unnecessary attention to the pair. "I want to help you in some way, Santana, but…I don't know how," she whispered.

Santana welcomed the feel of Brittany's touch, savoring it for a moment by crossing her pinky over the top of Brittany's pinky. Her spirit longed for the touch of her dear friend, but since Friday night, her body had shut off.

"Why don't you come over to my house tonight?" the blonde suggested, eager to reconnect with Santana.

"Yeah, maybe…."

"We could talk…or just watch a movie?" Brittany suggested, hopeful.

"Let me see how I feel tonight, ok?" the young Latina sounded unsure, "I haven't been sleeping well…I'm pretty tired."

"Ok." Brittany couldn't hide her disappointment as the bell rang in the start of the period.

"Class, please put your books away and take out a writing utensil," their history teacher announced. 

* * *

><p>Santana put her history book in her locker, shut the door and turned, running face first into David Karofsky.<p>

"Can we talk about…what happened the other night?" he asked in a hushed tone.

Every muscle in Santana's body tensed and her pulse quickened at hearing Karofsky's voice. Defensively, she tried to take a step backward but bumped into the metal lockers. Her mind flashed back to the two of them in the same position against the wooden wall of the snack booth on Friday night. With no place to move, her breath left her as her heart started pounding in her chest.

"Santana…?" Dave moved closer, "What have you said about what happened between us?"

"Nothing…," she whispered, her voice shaking.

"Cause _nothing_ unusual happened…right?" he coaxed her.

Santana stared up at him as he stood over her, a look of fright in her dark brown eyes.

"…_Right_?" he insisted, his tone overpowering her.

"Right," she answered softly, her defeat evident.

"We were just two people…on a date…doing our thing, right?" he confirmed, "Something you're _known_ for, right?"

"…right," she repeated weakly, tears welling up in her eyes. The smell of Karofsky's cologne as he leaned over her was making the brunette physically ill, remembering the scent mixed with his sweat and scotch on Friday night. She pulled her hand to her mouth and swallowed hard as bile coated the back of her throat, her jaw muscles tingling.

"Good," he said with a hint of sarcasm. He leaned in closer and kissed her on the cheek for public show then walked away, saying over his shoulder, "See you later, sweetheart."

Santana broke into a panicked run up the hallway and slammed open the door to the girls' restroom, pushing past two other students as they were exiting. She dropped her backpack in the floor of an empty stall as she collapsed before its toilet, throwing up several times until her body had nothing left but air.

"Santana?" Rachel Berry had followed her into the restroom.

Rachel got no response, but she could hear someone gagging in the only occupied stall. Knowing it had to be Santana, she knocked on the metal barrier which pushed opened the unlocked door.

"Santana, are you ok? I saw you run in here," she asked the brunette who was kneeling with her head over the toilet, dry-heaving. "Do you need me to get the nurse?"

After the muscles in her abdomen stopped convulsing, Santana sat on the floor and leaned her head back against the cold metal of the side wall. Rachel pulled a long strand of paper off the roll and kneeled beside her, wiping the Latina's mouth with a cautious touch.

Rachel saw a hot pink water bottle in the side pocket of Santana's backpack. She pulled it out, twisted it open and handed it to the sick girl. Santana took a small sip then a larger one, rinsing her mouth the second time and leaning forward to spit it into the toilet. She settled back down and coughed hard, her eyes watering.

"Do you need the nurse?" Rachel asked again.

"No."

The smaller brunette continued to kneel on the floor as she looked at the young Latina, quietly marveling at how truly beautiful she was even while she was puking into a toilet. She could see why all the boys at McKinley wanted to be with her. _I just wish Finn wasn't like all the other boys_…she thought sadly…_I thought we had something special_.

Santana took another sip from her water bottle then handed it back to the petite brunette. "Thank you," she said softly.

"Are you pregnant?" Rachel asked bluntly, never one for subtlety, as she replaced the top to the bottle and slid it back into the side pocket.

The taller brunette looked up at her and drew in a shaky breath, caught off guard by the direct question. "No," she replied, inwardly unsettled by the question.

"Oh…good," she smiled sweetly. "I saw you talking to Karofsky in the hall. You both seemed pretty upset so I guess I just assumed."

Rachel watched Santana's body tense and her eyes fill with tears at the mention of his name. "You're scared of him, aren't you?" she astutely observed.

Santana's shoulders fell as she broke into a sob. Rachel leaned forward and pulled the young Latina close, putting her arms around her. The smaller brunette let Santana cry until her tears slowed, holding her tightly.

Rachel pulled another strand of toilet paper and handed it to the taller brunette so she could blow her nose. She took another strand and gently wiped Santana's face.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" the Latina asked her, "I've said horrible things to you over the last two years."

"Because you need a friend right now," she replied sympathetically, "…besides, I know you don't really mean the awful things you say to me."

Santana sniffed and wiped at her nose. "Actually…I do mean most of it," she confessed, "okay, well…_some_ of it."

Both brunettes smiled and shared a small laugh that broke some of the tension that hung in the small space.

"Listen, Rachel…I'm sorry about what happened with Finn," the taller brunette admitted.

"It's in the past, Santana."

"No, your feelings for him are strong…I understand it more now. I feel really bad for messing with that," she reconciled, "It would just _kill_ me if someone did that to me with…someone I love."

Something about Santana seemed softer, allowing Rachel to feel strangely connected to her, and she confessed, "I love him…with all my heart." Tears formed in her bright brown eyes.

"I know you do," Santana confirmed, "It's all over your face…whenever he's around."

Rachel smiled. "Girls are like that, I guess…always the romantics, we are," the petite teen surmised, gesturing dramatically, "…it keeps us from hiding our true feelings."

Santana smiled back.

Rachel paused. "You know, Santana…your face gives you away too," she added.

Santana looked confused, her brow furrowing.

"Whenever a certain tall blonde is around," Rachel identified.

Santana blushed and looked down. "It's that obvious?" she asked, embarrassed that her feelings for Brittany were starting to betray her to others.

"When it's boundless, love is _very_ hard to hide," the smaller brunette assured her, sensitively rubbing the Latina's arm and adding, "Love is beautiful, Santana…in whatever form it takes."

Santana looked into the caring eyes of the teenager next to her, and she didn't see the annoying diva she knew from Glee Club or the loud know-it-all who drove her crazy…she only saw a young girl who understood life on a broader scale from being lovingly raised by her two gay dads.

"I need to get to class…will you be ok?" Rachel asked.

"Yeah, I'm good," the Latina confirmed. As the smaller brunette stood and turned to leave, Santana added, "Rachel…thank you."

Rachel looked back for a second and smiled before leaving the restroom. 

* * *

><p>Brittany switched off the television in the living room and yawned. She had dosed off while watching My Cat From Hell which was her cat, Lord Tubbington's, favorite show.<p>

She stood and leaned over to turn off a table lamp behind the couch when she heard a light knock on the front door. Brittany looked through the peep hole and saw a familiar face. She unlatched the front door quickly and opened it.

"Santana," she smiled broadly.

"I saw the light on," the dark-haired girl said, "Is it too late?"

"No, it's fine, come in," Brittany stepped back out of the doorway to allow room for her friend to enter.

Santana looked around; all the lights were off now except an upstairs lamp. "I shouldn't have come here so late," she was now doubting her decision.

"It's great to see you," Brittany reassured her, "I've missed you."

"My parents don't even know I left the house," she confessed, "…I just…_really_ needed to see you."

"I'm glad you came." Brittany could tell her best friend was upset. She moved toward her to put her arms around the brunette, but before she completed contact, Santana crumbled into her embrace, wrapping both arms tightly around her. Brittany could hear soft sobbing.

"Hey, you're safe, ok?" the blonde whispered into her ear, squeezing her tightly. After a few minutes passed, Brittany asked, "Do you want to go to my room?"

The brunette nodded and wiped at her eyes.

Once they reached the top of the stairs, Brittany closed her bedroom door behind them and handed Santana a box of tissues. Santana pulled a couple from the box then set it down on the nightstand, settling into the bedroom chair. She pulled off each of her white sneakers, tossing them to the floor, then pulled her long legs up underneath her and wiped some more at her eyes.

Brittany sat across from her on the ottoman, taking one of Santana's hands into her own.

"It's just been so hard, you know," the brunette started.

"I can only imagine, honey." Brittany squeezed Santana's hand. It was soft, as she always remembered it being, and she brushed her thumb over its knuckles in a gentle caress.

"I have been trying to block out everything that happened and just move forward, but I feel like I'm slowly losing my mind." Santana dabbed at her eyes as she spoke, her pain so close to the surface.

"Santana, you can't keep it bottled up inside you like you've been doing," the blonde girl implored.

"Yeah, I know…," Santana drew in a deep breath then slowly released it.

Brittany looked at her dear friend, not wanting to push her beyond what she could handle. Santana looked back at the tall blonde, remembering all the times in the past she had wanted to open up to Brittany, to expose some of her deeper feelings. Lately, the friends had made some progress toward understanding each other's complex thoughts about the other one and their powerful bond. Santana had known for a very long time that she felt more for her friend than just their playful sexual explorations with each other. She started needing more and more time with Brittany, but she was afraid to ask, fearing her friend's interest was nothing more than teenage curiosity. So Santana had emotionally shut down in response, pushing those feelings back into a dark corner of her heart, denying her true feelings for Brittany even to herself. It was only recently that those feelings were uncovered, and the young Latina could not hold them back any longer.

"I'm just so _angry_ about it all," Santana revealed.

"I can understand that," Brittany validated, "He had no right to attack you like he did."

"Now he's walking around school like some big shot…and nobody knows what a monster he _really_ is…."

"It's not too late to tell an adult about what happened."

Santana nodded, feeling some relief from giving voice to her thoughts. "I just feel like they'll find some way to blame me," she admitted, "…with my history and all."

"Can I ask you something though?" The blonde cautioned, "I mean…you don't have to answer if you feel uncomfortable."

The brunette looked across to the warm blue eyes of the one she loved most in the world and nodded.

"Had you slept with him…_before_, I mean…?" Brittany felt odd asking the question, but Santana had not mentioned anything specific to her about dating Karofsky which was unusual since the brunette told her every other detail about her life.

Santana sighed and shook her head, "No way!"

Brittany felt confused, knowing Santana had announced to the Glee Club members that she was "in love" with Dave and knowing Santana slept with every guy she dated and many she hadn't actually dated.

"I don't get it…," she told the brunette.

"Dave is _gay_, Britt."

Brittany pondered that revelation a moment. "Then…why were you dating him?"

"_Because_…I'm gay too. We were covering for each other."

"Why, Tan…?" the young blonde asked sweetly, "You don't need a cover…you're awesome just the way you are."

Santana had heard that sentiment before from Brittany. She wasn't sure what kept her from truly believing it. "But…_you_ won't be with me…," she said quietly.

"What makes you think that?" Brittany couldn't understand Santana's continued self-doubt.

There was a stillness in the room. Santana's emotions were too strong for the young brunette to hold back, tears started to stream down her face.

"Santana…," Brittany wanted her to trust her enough to open up further. She slid into the chair next to the slender Latina and put her arms around her in a tight embrace.

Santana immersed herself in the feeling of Brittany's body pressed against hers. She wanted to remember the warmth and softness of the blonde's body, stamping out the memory she had of the brutal attack against her. "I wanted you to kiss me Friday night," she confessed cautiously, "…when you followed me into that classroom."

Brittany looked into Santana's dark brown eyes, "Why didn't you kiss _me_?"

"You already know what I feel for you, Britt," she explained, "I didn't want to push anything with you that I wasn't sure you felt too."

"I _love_ you, Santana. That will _never_…_ever…_change. I just want you to be honest with yourself…and everyone around you." Brittany wasn't sure what to do to make Santana be more bold about their feelings, "I tried to get you to go to prom with me and you wouldn't."

"That was a public thing…," she defended.

"Do your feelings for me change when we're in public?" Brittany's logic tended to be more simplistic.

Santana paused to realize what her best friend was asking, "No…_never_."

"You told me you want to be with me…right?"

"Definitely…."

"Then…what's stopping you?"

Santana focused her gaze deeply into the blonde's bright blue eyes. She saw the love there that she'd hoped for so long to see. She leaned in and kissed Brittany gently on her lips. Brittany had kissed Santana many times before, but the kiss from Santana at this moment was delicate, _vulnerable_. The tall blonde returned the kiss, deepening the contact, trying to dispel any doubt the brunette might still have.

Santana broke the kiss first, her heart pounding in her chest as she pulled her head away slightly from Brittany's, trying to find her breath again. "Why does this feel so different from before?" she asked meekly.

"Because…it _means _so much more this time?" the blonde girl surmised.

Santana laid her cheek against Brittany's and ran her hand tenderly along her love's jaw line, tracing every inch of it. Brittany's physical closeness was what Santana craved right now. Brittany shifted in the oversized chair, allowing Santana to nestle closer into her body, savoring the most intimacy she'd shared with the brunette. To Brittany, nothing could be more perfect than the present, and she made a silent wish that time would simply stop.


	3. Chapter 3

**Her Smile Heals Me** (part 3)

Emma Pillsbury started her Wednesday morning the way she did every school morning with straightening her informational pamphlets on various topics helpful for the teenagers who visited her office. The red-haired guidance counselor always found it best to let the students come to her with their questions rather than pressuring them to speak outside their comfort zone. She had an open door policy which she hoped encouraged open dialogue with the students. Ironically, as guidance counselor, Emma was ill-equipped to field most difficult topics like teen pregnancy or sexually-transmitted diseases with which she was sometimes approached, because Emma held an awkward secret that not many knew about. She was a virgin…still. Will Shuester knew her secret. Emma had strong feelings for the Glee Club's attractive director, and the two of them had tried dating which only led to awkwardness. She knew privately that she maintained strong feelings for Will, but she was unsure if the two of them would ever be able to align.

Her careful organizing was interrupted with a knock on her office door. When she looked up, she saw Quinn Fabray through the glass panel and motioned her to come in.

"Ms. Pillsbury, do you have a moment?"

"Yes, Quinn…come in," Emma replied with a smile, "Have a seat."

Quinn sat in one of the two chairs across from Ms. Pillsbury's desk and crossed her legs at the knee.

"I haven't talked to you in awhile, Quinn…to what do I owe this honor?"

"Well, I have a question…on a more _serious_ topic, I guess…," the blonde beauty hesitated, "and…I guess I'm looking for…an adult's opinion."

"Oh…well, in that case…ask away…," the guidance counselor shifted nervously in her seat.

"This isn't about me personally…I have a…friend…who is in a…_situation_…," Quinn was unsure about where to begin.

"Oh, a _friend_…absolutely. Not you, got it," Emma played along.

"No really, this is about a friend of mine…" Quinn emphasized.

"Right…continue."

"Ok, here's the deal…how do you know when circumstances are _serious_ enough that you might need to tell an adult even though telling would…_really_…upset your friend?"

"How serious are we talking about, Quinn?"

The former Cheerio captain paused, torn as to how much detail to give out. "Criminal."

"Is this about Puck?" Emma asked.

"No…not this time," the blonde smiled.

"Well, if your friend is participating in illegal activity then it is probably better to help end these circumstances before they get deeper into trouble."

"I mean, what if…this friend…were a _victim_ of this activity?"

"Oh," Emma moved the stapler on her desk a half-inch to the right then she straightened her mouse pad a little higher on the left corner then looked back again at Quinn, "is your friend being abused or something like that?"

"Something kind of like that."

"Quinn, if your friend is being physically harmed then you have a moral obligation to help them."

"Well, that's why I'm coming to you, Ms. Pillsbury," Quinn responded. "I know what my head says…but…," she trailed off as her voice grew shaky.

"Is this…_friend_…at McKinley, Quinn?"

The former Cheerios captain drew a deep breath.

"I'll take that as a yes."

"She _begged_ me not to tell anyone." Quinn was visibly apprehensive about giving out additional details.

"I understand. Will you at least tell me _the what_ if not the who?"

Quinn paused. Emma could see the wheels turning behind the intelligent, green eyes.

"Rape…," Quinn revealed, "Date rape, to be exact."

Emma was taken aback. "Quinn…were _you_ raped?"

"No. Seriously, Ms. Pillsbury, I'm worried about my friend."

"Is the attacker also at this school?"

"Yes," Quinn answered, "but…my friend won't acknowledge or talk about it at this point."

"Well then…um…," Emma was definitely being pulled outside her comfort zone, "to answer your original question…as an adult…I would recommend to you to focus on getting your friend some professional help." She took out a business card from her desk drawer and looked down at the name. It had the name of her personal therapist printed in blue block letters, the therapist who had recently helped her make great strides with her own battle with OCD. She pushed the card across the top of the desk until it stopped short of the edge on the other side. "This doctor is a woman, and she is very caring and easy to talk with. Perhaps your friend would feel comfortable talking with a neutral person."

Quinn picked up the card to look at it closer. "Thank you."

"I think it is equally important to prevent this from happening to other young girls, Quinn, so if you know that someone at this school is a danger to others then I implore you to let me or Principal Figgins know."

"I understand…really, I do, and I will certainly keep that in mind," Quinn assured her, standing to leave. She tucked the business card into a small pocket on the front of her skirt and turned back around as she opened the office door, "Thank you, Ms. Pillsbury. Sincerely."

Emma looked at her with her large brown eyes and nodded then looked back to the top of her desk and moved her stapler a half-inch back to the left. 

* * *

><p>Brittany opened the door to her locker, smiling broadly when she saw the small picture of herself with Santana she'd taped earlier in the morning on the inside of the narrow door. She still felt tingles from spending time with the Latina beauty the night before. Her memory took her back to the kiss the two shared in Brittany's bedroom. Santana had been so tender, her feelings so exposed. <em>It was a beautiful thing<em>…the tall blonde swooned inwardly.

"Hey, you…," a familiar voice from behind her pulled Brittany from her musings. She turned toward it and unintentionally frowned in disappointment, seeing it was Artie.

"Hey, Artie…."

"Happy Hump Day," he smiled.

"Huh?" she was distracted with her thoughts of Santana.

"It's the "hump" in the week…you know, the _middle_…," he tried explaining but seeing no amusement, he said quietly, "…Nevermind."

Brittany laughed awkwardly. "I'm sorry, Artie. I was thinking about…a project for…History class."

"Right…I understand." He wheeled back his chair, feeling dejected, then decided to try again, remembering Puck's "power attitude" instructions. "So…I would really like for us to stay friends. You're very important to me, Brittany."

"Totally, Artie…we will," she smiled at him.

Feeling encouraged, he suggested, "How about a friendly dinner tonight? Breadstix?"

"Oh, I can't tonight." She and Santana made plans to study together.

"Tomorrow night?"

"I'm sorry, Artie." The blonde felt a twinge of guilt, crinkling her nose as she saw his face fall in disappointment.

As if on cue, Santana walked up to the pair. "Hey."

Artie watched as the face of the tall blonde brightened immediately. "I'm going to go now."

After Artie wheeled away, Santana turned to Brittany, "What's his problem?"

"Huh? Oh…nothing. How are you feeling this morning? You look flushed," Brittany felt Santana's forehead with the back of her hand then tucked a wayward lock of raven hair behind the Latina's ear. "You're very warm, Santana."

"Yeah, I'm not feeling well today."

"I think you have a fever…you should have the nurse check."

"I'm ok. I have a doctor's appointment scheduled for this afternoon," she lowered her voice.

"That's great, Santana," the blonde was relieved.

"It's after school…would you maybe…go with me?"

"Of course, I will," she took the brunette by the hand, "whatever you feel comfortable with."

"I should get to Spanish," Santana said as she looked around the hall, noticing it was emptying. She reached up as subtly as her feelings would allow and caressed Brittany on the cheek and smiled then mouthed the words, "I love you," before walking away.

Brittany leaned back against her closed locker door, her heart fluttering. _Ok, Santana…it's a start_. 

* * *

><p>The choir room was abuzz with laughter and conversation as the bell rang, signaling the start of class. Brittany stepped down to the bottom row of chairs to sit next to Santana. The blonde teen noticed the Latina was subdued, sitting quietly in her seat with her hands folded in her lap. Brittany leaned over and whispered, "Are you ok?"<p>

Santana nodded weakly.

"Ok, class…quiet down please," Will Shuester requested as he walked in from his attached office and wrote the word "Emotions" in black ink on the dry-erase board at the front of the classroom. He pointed back at the board behind him, "This is our focus, guys. We are tapping into the raw emotions that are inside each of you. If we can bring those to the surface and put them into our selections at Nationals then we are unstoppable."

"Mr. Shuester," a hand shot up in the second row.

"Yes, Rachel…," he took a deep breath.

"Since we have decided to perform original songs again at Nationals," she began cheerfully, "I wanted to announce the 1st annual Nationals-song-writing party to convene at my house this Saturday at 4pm sharp."

Her announcement was greeted with groans and heavy sighing from the others. Her smile faded, "Chips and dips will be provided."

"I think that's a fantastic idea, Rachel!" Will tried to provide needed encouragement, "Right, class?"

A variety of unenthusiastic "yeah, ok" and "sure, Mr. Shue" responses followed. "Ok, great – thank you, Rachel." Will clasped his hands together, "Let's move on. Who is up today for their solo?"

"I'll go, Mr. Shue," Artie volunteered.

"Excellent, Artie…what song will you be singing for us?"

He adjusted his thick, brown eye-glasses on his nose then pushed his wheelchair toward the piano. "I had a selection…but after recent developments…I have opted to make a last-minute change," he explained, handing sheet music to Brad, the ever-present accompanist sitting at the piano.

Brad looked over the pages and nodded to the young teen in the wheelchair as he turned himself to face his classmates. As Will took a seat among the Glee Club members, he heard Artie say sadly, "This is dedicated to Brittany."

The piano music started slowly, playing the haunting notes of "Goodbye My Lover" by James Blunt, as Artie joined in song:

_Did I disappoint you or let you down?_

_Should I be feeling guilty or let the judges frown?_

_'Cause I saw the end before we'd begun,_

_Yes, I saw you were blinded and I knew I had won._

_So I took what's mine by eternal right…_

_Took your soul out into the night._

_It may be over but it won't stop there,_

_I am here for you if you'd only care,_

_You touched my heart you touched my soul,_

_You changed my life and all my goals…_

The mood in the choir room quickly turned awkward as Artie poured his heart into his rendition of the gut-wrenching ballad, the Glee group squirming uncomfortably in their chairs and casting side-glances to each other. Brittany understandably looked most distressed. She looked over at Santana for strength, causing the corners of her mouth to turn upward unintentionally into a smile.

Santana pulled her knit jacket tightly around her body and lowered her head. She could feel that her internal temperature was continuing to rise but a deep chill washed over her. She could hear musical notes and muffled singing, but the light in the classroom was slowly starting to fade around her.

Artie continued, undeterred by the rising tension in the room:

_Goodbye my lover._

_Goodbye my friend._

_You have been the one._

_You have been the one for me…_

His closed eyes shot open as he heard screams fill the room, ending his solo as the piano stopped.

"Santana!" Brittany was on the floor of the choir room holding the unconscious brunette.

Will reached the bottom of the risers first as the group encircled the fallen teen. He saw the panic on Brittany's face. "Santana?" he said softly as he tried to revive her.

"I'll go get the nurse," Tina said.

"See if Ms. Pillsbury is in her office too, Tina," Mr. Shuester instructed.

Quinn knelt down beside Brittany and felt the face of the unresponsive Latina, "She's burning up!"

"Mr. Shue…should we call 911?" Puck asked.

Will looked down at the pale, limp teen as he drew in a worried breath, "Yes…let's do." 

* * *

><p>Kurt was at the water fountain, filling a cone-shaped paper cup, when a hand stroked his shoulders from behind.<p>

"Hey, I got your voice message. They told me at the nurse's station that some of you guys were in here," Blaine said.

Kurt smiled at his unexpected arrival. "We haven't heard anything yet."

The two of them moved toward two empty chairs in the waiting-room of the Lima Memorial Hospital and sat down. Blaine took one of Kurt's hands in his and squeezed it in support.

Quinn was sitting on a nearby couch with her arm gently draped around Brittany's shoulders. "She was supposed to see her doctor this afternoon," Brittany whispered to the shorter blonde beauty.

Quinn squeezed Brittany's shoulder in silent fortitude.

"I found some lukewarm coffee down the hall," Will said, coming back in the room and sitting next to Emma Pillsbury, "I'd be happy to get you a cup…if you don't mind it black."

"No, but thank you," Emma replied, "besides, you don't know how long it's been sitting there and how many people have touch it." Emma inwardly quivered at the thought.

Returning from the restroom, Rachel Berry walked over to Brittany, "I just passed the doctor talking with Mr. and Mrs. Lopez. I heard her tell them Santana's being moved to a room."

"Mr. Shue? Can you find out more information?" Puck asked from a corner chair.

"Yeah…let me see what I can find out," he tossed his styrofoam cup in a nearby trash bin as he left the waiting room.

Emma stood up too and said nervously, "I'll go with you."

Rachel sat down on the couch on the other side of Brittany, putting her arm around both blondes as far as her petite frame would allow, "She'll be okay."

After several minutes past, Will and Emma returned with Mrs. Lopez and a female doctor.

"Puck, Kurt, Blaine…" he addressed the teen boys directly, "come with me please. Let's go find the others."

Once the guys cleared the room, Emma turned to the girls who remained, "Girls, Mrs. Lopez and Dr. Reed need your help."

Mrs. Lopez swallowed hard before speaking, her voice shaking, "Brittany, what can you tell us about what happened to Santana?"

The tall blonde froze under the direct questions, her head spinning with Santana's voice begging her not to say anything about Karofsky mixed with flashes of images of Santana bruised and bloodied then laying unconscious in her arms. Fresh tears streamed down Brittany's face. Rachel pulled her closer.

"Girls," the doctor began, "it's clear Santana has suffered recent trauma. If you have information that can assist us in treating her, I urge you to be forthcoming."

Quinn whispered, "Britt, we can't keep this up any longer," into Brittany's ear and squeezed her hand then looked up at Mrs. Lopez and said, "Santana was raped Friday night."

Rachel gasped softly.

Mrs. Lopez sniffed and wiped tears from her eyes with her crumpled tissue, "Why didn't she tell us? I don't understand."

Brittany crossed her arms in her lap, bending at the waist to bury her face.

"She was just so scared, Mrs. Lopez," Quinn responded, "We just…we couldn't force her to say anything."

"Well, thank you for your honesty, girls," Mrs. Lopez caressed the top of Brittany's head, seeing how anguished the teen was.

Dr. Reed squeezed Mrs. Lopez's shoulder, "We'll contact the authorities then they will get official statements from everyone involved." The doctor turned to leave but first said, "As soon as they have her settled in a room, you and Dr. Lopez can see her."

"Wait! Don't _we_ get to know what's wrong with her?" Rachel asked.

Dr. Reed looked for a reaction from Mrs. Lopez who nodded permission to reveal the details. "Santana's temperature was nearly 105 when she arrived in the ER. She has a severe infection…from…," the doctor hesitated with her wording, shifting uncomfortably, "…lacerations…which occurred."

Brittany unintentionally gasped then buried her face again.

"We're giving her a strong course of antibiotics and steroids intravenously which should help quickly," Dr. Reed explained.

Quinn turned toward Santana's mother, "We're very sorry."

Dr. Reed smiled kindly and left with Mrs. Lopez.

Silence hung in the room after the two women departed. Emma saw guilt in the eyes of both blonde teens. She knew now that Santana was the friend Quinn came to her about.

"Quinn, you tried to help her," Emma encouraged the crestfallen duo, "Please don't be too hard on yourselves. It's never black and white when trying to navigate this type of situation."

The shorter blonde nodded and wiped at her wet eyes.

"Girls, we have another issue here," Emma narrowed her eyes, "We have someone dangerous at our school so you need to tell me who did this to Santana."

The blondes looked at each other then looked down, both of them visibly shivering with the overwhelming emotions that had been building since Friday night.

Rachel thought back to the fear on Santana's face in the girls' restroom. "It was Karofsky," Rachel volunteered.

The blondes looked at the brunette, unsure of how she knew. Emma looked at Quinn for confirmation. Quinn nodded.

"Ok, stay here please…I'll be back in a little while." Emma left to find Will.

Brittany's thoughts went to Santana, not knowing what would happen now that the truth was out. _This is going to be agonizing for her_…she privately worried. She wished she could shelter Santana from having to deal with any of it. Her thoughts broke to the surface as an uncontrollable sob.

Quinn and Rachel held her tightly from both sides, letting her emotions drain out.

"Is there anything I can get for you?" Quinn asked once the taller blonde calmed.

"No…the only thing _I_ need is for Santana to be better," Brittany responded.

"Brittany…Santana loves you so much…," Rachel confirmed, pulling a fresh tissue from her pocket and wiping at her tear-streaked face, "…pull strength from that, ok?"

"I still can't believe this is even happening," Brittany cried.

"She's in good hands, Britt," Quinn told her. 

* * *

><p>"Hi," Mercedes said as she set down her book bag and sat in a chair next to Sam.<p>

The handsome blond grinned widely.

Quinn was on the top row of the risers, immersed in a book. She didn't even notice that Finn walked in.

"Hey, are you ever going to talk to me again?" he asked her.

The green-eyed beauty looked up from her reading, "Yes."

"Oh…good," he sounded surprised.

"I've just had a lot on my mind this week."

"So…you're not mad anymore?"

"Mad? No…," she drew a distinction, "Conflicted? Yes."

"What does that mean?"

She lowered her voice and leaned toward him, "Finn, you'll always be my first love, but…"

"…but…what?" he sounded confused.

"I don't want to settle."

"Is that what you're doing with me?" he asked with a hurt tone.

"I think that's what you're doing with me actually," she said sadly. "I want to find somebody who is as in to me as I am into him. I want the fairy tale, Finn."

He swallowed hard, knowing she spoke the truth.

"_Your_ heart is elsewhere…," she said matter-of-factly as she turned to look at Rachel who was talking with Kurt and Tina, "so…I think that's where all of you should be."

Finn looked toward Rachel. Her smile as she chatted with her friends made him feel warm inside, causing him to unintentionally smile too. He caught himself and cast a side-glance toward Quinn who simply looked back down at her book.

"Ok, class…let's gather around," Will Shuester said, walking into the choir room as the bell rang. "I think we're all distracted today with thoughts of Santana…so let's postpone any more solos for now."

"Good idea, Mr. Shue," Mercedes said sadly.

"Mr. Shue, have you heard anything from Brittany?" Tina asked.

"I spoke with her briefly," he confirmed, "she said there was no significant change."

"Mr. Shue, if I may…," Rachel's hand shot up.

"Yes, Rachel…go ahead." Will took in a deep breath as the rest of the class sighed heavily.

Rachel stood and stepped to the front of the choir room, turning to address the room. "I wanted to see if maybe we could take up a collection…to get Santana some flowers?"

"I think that's a wonderful idea, Rachel…let me be the first to contribute," he responded, pulling his wallet from his back pocket. He felt guilty for automatically assuming something selfish from the young brunette.

"Yeah, Rachel…I'm impressed," Puck said, grabbing the black fedora off the top of Mike Chang's head, flipping it upside down and tossing a ten-dollar bill into the hat before handing it back to him. He cheerfully dropped some cash in the hat and handed it to Tina. The hat passed person to person until Sam leaned over and passed it to Artie who paused momentarily, thinking of Brittany. His heart still ached over losing her as his girlfriend. His thoughts then turned to Santana; he was jealous of Santana's hold over Brittany. He had been so angry lately that he'd wished bad things on the Latina, and now, he felt incredibly guilty that she was ill. He fished in the side pocket on his pants and pulled out all the cash he had, and with a deep settling breath, he placed it in the hat and reached forward to hand it to Will.

"Thank you, everyone…this is very generous," Will complimented the Glee Club members, "I know this will help Santana know how important she is to the group." 

* * *

><p>Brittany shifted in the chair in which she was sitting, looking up as a nurse in light blue scrubs entered.<p>

"Hi, I'm Evelyn…I'm starting the evening rotation," she smiled and wrote her name and a four-digit extension on a small dry-erase board on the wall of Santana's hospital room. "I'll be taking care of Ms. Lopez through tonight so if anyone needs anything or has any questions, just dial that extension and it will page me." She took a clip board off the end of the hospital bed and flipped several pages, reading over Santana's chart, then she walked over to the machine that was monitoring her blood pressure, pulse and other vitals, pushing different buttons and writing numbers on the top page.

"I'm Brittany." The blonde watched the nurse through weary eyes, pulling a long leg up underneath her in the hard chair while stretching her arms and popping her stiff neck.

"There's no getting comfortable in those chairs is there?" Evelyn asked jovially.

"No, not really," Brittany responded.

"Have you been here all day?"

"Yes."

"I was on rotation last night too when they moved her in here. I've worked with Dr. Lopez for many years," she volunteered as she checked the connection on the wires going from the machine to Santana, "I know this must be so hard on them to see their child so sick."

"Yeah, they were here earlier but went home to eat and rest awhile," Brittany told her.

"You're a good friend to stay with her," Evelyn smiled and patted the tall blonde on the shoulder as she moved around her.

"I can't leave her," Brittany looked sadly at the sedated Latina.

"Her temperature is coming down…102.6…that's good," the nurse marked it in the chart, "…those antibiotics are working."

Brittany smiled and took Santana's hand. "Do you know how long her doctor will keep her on the sedation?"

"I'm not sure, honey…Santana's been through a lot…it's important for her body to rest so she can fight this infection," Evelyn reassured her. "I'm sure she feels your presence though. It's amazing the things patients tell us they remember hearing and feeling while under."

"Yeah, that's what Dr. Lopez told me too."

"Ok, Miss Brittany…like I said, if you need anything, you just let me know," the kind nurse said, hanging the clipboard back on the end of Santana's bed and leaving.

Brittany squeezed Santana's hand again then leaned over and kissed her pale cheek.

There was a light rap on the door before it opened, and Puck walked in carrying a large, clear vase that held a giant bouquet of spring flowers with a silver balloon tied to it that read "Get Well Soon".

"Oh how beautiful!" Brittany smiled widely, taking the vase from him and setting it on a side table.

"They're from the Glee Club," he said proudly, "I asked for pink…cause I know it's her favorite."

"They're perfect," she said, hugging him tightly.

"How's she doing?" he asked softly, looking down at his former girlfriend. He and Santana had a volatile past, but he cared for her deeply and would always have a soft spot for the fiery Latina.

"Better…her fever is coming down so her doctor has been optimistic."

"Good," he sounded relieved, "I brought my guitar like you asked." He set the black case down on the floor.

"Thank you, Puck...do you know the song I texted you?"

"Of course…it's a great choice," he encouraged the blonde with a smile as he unlatched his case and put the guitar strap over his broad shoulder, "I think she would definitely find it healing."

Brittany smiled back at him, appreciative of his support and his willingness to play for her. She'd wanted to do something for her dear friend to let her know she was there, and the blonde had instantly thought of this song when Mr. Shuester made his emotions assignment.

She took a deep breath and pulled the side chair closer to Santana's bed. "Santana, I know this is kind of cheesy…but…I really hope it helps," the tall blonde took the brunette's limp hand in hers and nodded to Puck.

Puck started picking the smooth-flowing chords of the Bob Dylan song Brittany had requested as her soft, trembling voice joined in:

_When the rain is blowing in your face  
>And the whole world is on your case<br>I would offer you a warm embrace  
>To make you feel my love<br>When the evening shadows and the stars appear  
>And there is no one to dry your tears<br>I could hold you for a million years  
>To make you feel my love…<em>

_I know you haven't made your mind up yet  
>But I would never do you wrong<br>I've known it from the moment that we met  
>No doubt in my mind where you belong<br>I'd go hungry, I'd go black and blue  
>I'd go crawling down the avenue<br>There ain't nothing that I wouldn't do  
>To make you feel my love…<em>

_The storms are raging on a rolling sea  
>And down the highway of regret<br>The winds of change are blowing wild and free  
>But you ain't seen nothing like me yet…<br>I could make you happy  
>Make your dreams come true<br>There is nothing that I would not do  
>Go to the ends<br>Of the Earth for you  
>To make you feel my love.<em>

A stillness hung in the hospital room as the song ended. Brittany wiped her wet eyes with the end of her long sleeve then kissed Santana's hand and held it to her cheek. She turned and looked at Puck who still stood behind her.

Puck winked at her, and Brittany could read in his face that he knew the full extent of her feelings for Santana.

"Thank you, Puck."

"My pleasure, Britt."


	4. Chapter 4

**Her Smile Heals Me** (part 4)

"David…take a seat please," Principal Figgins said to the McKinley High linebacker as he opened the door to the principal's office Friday morning.

David Karofsky stepped in and saw that Will Shuester and Emma Pillsbury were also seated in the office with an unknown man in a suit and tie.

"What's going on?" the teen asked hesitantly without sitting.

"David, please sit down and we'll explain," Figgins instructed.

Karofsky sat down, looking behind him and seeing a second man in a suit move to stand in front of the office door. He suddenly felt boxed in, his anger rising.

"David, this is Detective Sheldon," Figgins introduced the man who was seated, "and behind you is Detective Mills. They're with the Lima police department, and they have some questions for you."

"No way! I want to call my dad," Karofsky sat up on the edge of his chair, fists clinched.

"Whoa, son…calm down," Detective Sheldon gestured for him to settle back down, "we're just here for some information. Ok?"

David drew in a settling breath and nodded.

The seated detective began, "It's my understanding that you are the boyfriend of Santana Lopez?"

David looked at Mr. Shuester then at Ms. Pillsbury. Emma was struggling internally to be in Karofsky's presence, sickened by the details already discovered about that night.

"Yeah, we've been going out for a few weeks. Why?"

"You're aware then that Miss Lopez is currently in the hospital?" Detective Sheldon asked.

"I heard that she was, yes."

"You _heard_ that she was?" the detective scrutinized, "You haven't inquired recently as to your _girlfriend's_ well being?"

"She's not my girlfriend!"

"She's not?" Will interjected, "The two of you stood in the choir room in front of me and Principal Figgins and the Glee Club and professed your love for each other."

"Is that true, son?" the detective quizzed.

"Well, yeah, but…," David shifted in his chair, responding, "…things change."

"You attended your prom with her last Friday, is that correct?"

"Yes," David swallowed hard. _Fuck you, Santana_…he thought, hating her for forcing herself into his world.

"What time did you leave the dance, David?"

"After it was over…around 11:00, I guess?" Karofsky watched the detective scribble a note on a small notepad.

"You were inside the gymnasium the entire time?"

"No," David looked at Principal Figgins.

"What time did you leave the gym?"

"10:00…10:15…something like that."

Detective Sheldon made another note on his pad. "Did you stay inside the school building?"

"No," he responded hesitantly.

"Where did you go when you left the building, David?"

"To the stadium."

Detective Sheldon turned slightly and cut his eyes toward Detective Mills. "David, what made you leave the dance?"

"It was no big deal…I just needed some air…it was getting hot in the gym," he said defensively.

"Did Miss Lopez leave with you?"

"No…she had to stay to sing."

"When was the next time you saw her?"

"At the stadium."

"Had the two of you agreed to meet there?"

David looked around the room with sweat forming on his brow, trying to quickly determine the story that made most sense, answering, "Yes."

Detective Sheldon uncrossed his legs and stopped writing, "Yes?"

"Yes," Karofsky restated with more confidence.

Emma looked at Will, trying to internally calm herself. The smug look on Karofsky's face was more than she could stand.

"What did the two of you do once she met you at the stadium?"

"Just typical teenager stuff."

"Like…?" the detective insisted.

"Like…smoking and drinking under the bleachers." Karofsky looked at Principal Figgins for a reaction. The oversized teen felt at this point that it was better to get busted for underage smoking and drinking than for…_Goddamn you, Santana_…he internally cursed her.

"Both of you were smoking and drinking?"

"Yeah," he lied, "we were both pretty drunk, I guess."

"Anything _else_ happen…under the bleachers, David?"

David paused, feigning modesty, "Well…yeah…I mean we totally got it on…if that's what you're asking."

"Got it on?"

"We had sex…under the bleachers."

Emma squirmed awkwardly in her seat. Will fidgeted too, making eye contact with her then with Figgins.

"So it was consensual?"

"Totally!"

"Did you use a condom?" the experienced detective throughout there for reaction alone.

The question definitely caught Karofsky off guard, "What? No…um, it was more…_impromptu_ than that."

"Impulsive, huh? So it got a little aggressive would you say?"

"What do you mean?"

"Did things get a bit out of hand?"

"We were a little…_enthusiastic_…I guess you could say. We were drunk," David shrugged.

"Is that how you got those scratches under your eye there?" Detective Sheldon pointed to Karofsky's left eye.

"I don't remember…maybe?" He had forgotten those were there.

"Uhuh…and…_after_…the two of you had sex…did you and she return to the dance together?"

"No."

"Did you take her home?"

"No."

"You're not much of a gentleman," Detective Mills said from behind David.

"She's not much of a lady," David smirked.

"What do you mean by that?" Detective Sheldon asked for clarification.

"Just that Santana's been around the block…many times…," he smiled.

"So you left the bleachers first or she did?"

"She did…I think she wanted to find her friend."

"Did she say who?"

"Brittany…they rode together that night."

"I see…but you had your car?"

"Yeah."

"Do you recall seeing anyone as you left?"

His memories were still fuzzy. "No…nobody in particular."

"When was the next time you saw Miss Lopez?"

"At school…I don't remember, Monday, Tuesday."

"So you knew nothing of her getting ill…until you heard she was in the hospital, right?"

"No, nothing…until I heard she was taken from school in an ambulance the other day."

"Ok, David…we'll be in touch," Detective Sheldon closed his notebook.

"David…you can return to class," Principal Figgins told him.

Karofsky stood and moved toward the door.

"Oh, and David…we will need some snaps of your eye there, buddy…just for our file," the seated detective added with an artificial grin, "We'll give your parents a call to schedule a time for you all to stop by the station."

The tall linebacker shifted awkwardly then turned to leave. Detective Mills who was equally tall stood in his path for a moment, blocking Karofsky's exit. The tall detective smiled intimidatingly at the oversized teen then step aside to let him pass through the door, closing it behind him.

"He's lying!" Emma could not hold in her disgust any longer.

"Ms. Pillsbury!" Figgins cautioned, "Let the detectives do their job."

"He cannot be allowed to victimize Santana all over again…blaming her for what he did to her is despicable!" The red-haired guidance counselor was fiercely protective.

"Ms. Pillsbury," Detective Sheldon stood, "I assure you, we've seen this before…and we will not take his story at face value. This investigation is not finished." He moved toward the door, "Thank you again for your time." 

* * *

><p>"Tina – please remember, no boots on the coffee table please," Rachel reminded nervously. The Asian girl lifted her heavy black, combat boots in the air then slowly lowered them to the floor, looking over at Mercedes who rolled her eyes.<p>

"Ok, everyone, let's take out our notepads and our pencils and start brainstorming," the petite brunette directed, clapping her hands together. She noticed no movement as the rest of the Glee Club members looked around the basement living room at each other.

"_Nobody_ brought anything to write on?" she asked in shock.

Mike Chang shrugged.

"You guys are kidding me, right? The entire point of you all being here is 'The 1st annual Nationals-song-_WRITING_ party'…," she chastised.

"You said there would be dip," Puck stated, holding up a tortilla chip in front of him, "Here's my chip…it's got no dip."

"You can blame Finn," she pointed toward the teen quarterback who was sitting in a side chair with his long legs draped over one of the chair's arms, "HE was in charge of bringing the dip."

"Rachel, calm down…," Finn encouraged softly. He appreciated Rachel's passion about Glee Club and performing, but he too found her a bit annoying at times.

"Calm down? We have less than three weeks before our plane leaves for New York, guys," she reminded them, "…did you want to just wait until we're in our hotel room before we start writing songs?"

"Rachel's right…unfortunately," Kurt interjected, leaning over to take a yellow rhyming-words book off the stack that sat on the end table next to the couch, "Let's focus."

Tina moved to sit at the nearby piano, running her fingers across several random chords.

"That's pretty," Mercedes complimented her.

"Thanks!" she replied.

Rachel looked over at Finn who smiled. 

* * *

><p>Quinn reached the top of the basement stairs and rounded the corner, bumping right into Rachel who was carrying a bowl of fresh ice.<p>

"Sorry!" the small brunette blushed at bumping into the blonde beauty, "…the basement fridge was out of ice."

"Someone was in the downstairs bathroom," Quinn told her, "I was just going to use the one in the hall."

"Yeah, no problem," she said then paused, "Quinn…?"

The blonde turned back around with a raised eyebrow.

"Is it true that you and Finn broke up?"

"Yes…you win, Rachel," the former Cheerio captain announced, "…Finn is all yours."

"It's not about winning, Quinn," the complex teen said softly.

"I know, Rachel."

The small brunette stared into the face of the blonde beauty. She saw pain in her green eyes. "Quinn, there will always be a special place in Finn's heart for you."

"It's not even really about Finn anymore."

Rachel looked at her, confused.

"Am I just looking in the wrong places?"

"For…?"

"Love? A spiritual connection? Anything more than the artificial crap I've experienced so far," the blonde confided.

"Maybe," the brunette admitted to her. "You're always reminding me, Quinn…that I will leave Lima someday…and, go on to bigger and better places."

"You are _very_ talented, Rachel. I'm amazed sometimes actually."

Rachel paused at hearing these words from the girl who effortlessly insulted her most of the time. She swallowed hard before saying, "You are bigger than Lima too, Quinn. You don't give yourself enough credit. You are so worried about what you will accomplish in high school…it's like you want to make sure you have your whole life's plan in place before you graduate, but that's so limiting. You are one of the smartest people I've ever known, Quinn. This world is huge…and your dreams should be too."

The blonde leaned back against the wall, tears welling up in her green eyes. "That's probably the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me."

Rachel smiled at her. "The person who is meant for you is out there right now, Quinn…_somewhere_…probably leaning against a wall in their friend's house, wondering aloud if they'll ever meet the right person."

Quinn sniffed and wiped a wayward tear then smiled back at the small brunette, "That ice is melting…and I still need to pee."

Rachel laughed, "I'll see you back downstairs then."

Once Rachel reached the bottom of the stairs, she heard Kurt and Mercedes singing the beginning of their newly-written song. "That sounds wonderful!" she encouraged them "Mr. Shue will be thrilled when he hears it."

She felt a strong arm encircle her waist from behind, and she looked up to see Finn smiling down at her. He leaned over and whispered in her ear, "I overheard what you said to Quinn."

"And…?" she asked, her brow furrowed in anticipation of what he was thinking.

"And…I have never loved you more than I do right now," he said with a grin.

Rachel swooned inwardly and took a deep breath.

"Hey, guys…," Quinn said excitedly, coming back down the stairs, "Brittany just texted...Santana is awake!" 

* * *

><p>Brittany had dozed off with her head on the side of Santana's bed. She felt a soft touch run across her forehead, pushing her bangs off to the side of her face. She opened her eyes slowly and lifted her fatigued head, seeing Santana's dark brown eyes looking back at her.<p>

"Hi," the tall blonde greeted her with a huge smile.

"You're still here? I told you to go home and rest."

"I will…I didn't want you to be alone," Brittany adjusted herself in her chair, "Your mom went down to the cafeteria to eat with your dad. I'll leave when they get back, ok?"

"Is there any water?" the brunette asked.

"Yeah, there's some right here." Brittany poured some clear liquid into a beige, plastic hospital cup and removed the paper from a nearby straw, placing it in the cup and bringing it up to Santana's dry lips. "It's not very cold…but it's wet, at least," she smiled.

Santana leaned forward slightly and took a couple of small sips, letting the water ease down her sore throat. Her head was starting to feel a little clearer now than when she first woke from the sedation earlier in the day. She noticed Brittany staring at her.

"I look like a hot damn mess, huh?" she asked, knowing she had no hairstyle or make-up to hide behind.

"I think you look beautiful," the blonde smiled.

Santana blushed under the sentiment as she returned the smile.

"I was scared, Tan," Brittany confessed.

Her blue eyes looked so tired to Santana. "Come lay by me…," she moved over slightly in her bed, patting the empty space.

The tall blonde slid onto the hospital bed and wrapped her long arms around the brunette, careful not to pull any of Santana's remaining wires. The young Latina pulled her close and kissed her forehead. The two of them laid together quietly for several minutes.

"I love you, Brittany."

"I love you too, Santana."

Another moment of silence passed then Santana squeezed her love tightly and said softly, "Britt…I'm very sorry."

"For what?" the tall blonde looked up at her with confusion in her tired blue eyes.

"For all the time we've lost…that we could have been together."

"Don't apologize…we're together now," Brittany nuzzled into Santana, kissing her on the neck.

"Yeah, but…I should have been more open about my feelings for you…I just…," her voice trailed off.

"Shhh…stop," Brittany put a long finger up to Santana's lips then she kissed her on the cheek and whispered, "I love you so much…you're worth waiting for."

Santana closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath, feeling unsure as to why she was fortunate enough to have Brittany in her life, as tears began to trail down her pale face.

"Why are you crying?" the blonde asked her.

"How do you see past all the terrible things about me?"

"Because I see _inside_ you…and I know that in there," Brittany emphasized my placing her finger tips over the center of Santana's chest, "…is an _amazing_soul."

Santana beamed, leaning in to kiss Brittany deeply.

The tall blonde broke the kiss and sat up abruptly, "Tan, I need to tell you something though."

"Um, ok…," the brunette said nervously, pushing the button on the sidebar to raise the hospital bed.

"I don't want you to think I've been hiding this from you, it's just that…."

Santana interrupted, "You're scaring me, Brittany…just say whatever it is."

Brittany drew in a shaky breath, "We had to tell them about Karofsky."

The Latina's eyes instantly grew large with fear. "What?"

"We had to…I'm so sorry," Brittany tried to explain, "The hospital knew something happened, Santana…we just filled in the gaps."

"My parents know?"

"Yes," Brittany put a calming hand on the brunette's arm, "And…the police."

"Oh god."

"They're going to help you, Santana…you have to trust them."

"I don't want to talk about it to anyone, Britt."

"But, Ms. Pillsbury said…."

The Latina cut her off, "She knows too?"

"And…Mr. Shuester…and Principal Figgins."

"I'm so embarrassed!"

"Don't be…it's not your fault…Karofsky needs to pay for what he did to you."

"Does anyone in Glee Club know?" she asked softly, her eyes downcast.

The tall blonde hesitated, "The police are talking to everyone."

"I'll never be able to show my face at school again."

"Yes, you will, Santana," Brittany lifted the Latina's chin, "You are strong…you will get through this, ok?"

The raven-haired beauty looked at her quietly for a moment then acquiesced, "Ok."

Brittany leaned back against Santana, wrapping her arm around her again, "And I'll be right there with you." 

* * *

><p>There was a knock on the door to Santana's hospital room before it opened and Quinn Fabray walked in followed closely by Rachel Berry.<p>

"Good morning," the blonde former head Cheerio said cheerfully, "This is for you." Quinn handed Santana a plain, brown paper sack.

Santana smiled and opened the sack as excited as a kid on her birthday. "A bagel!" she announced, taking the round object out of the sack, "Oh man…this is carbo-licious goodness."

"Your mom said you were eating…so we brought your favorite."

"Thank you! I'm starving too…do you know what kind of crap they serve up in here?"

Quinn leaned over and kissed the Latina on the cheek, "I'm glad to see you are feeling better."

Rachel stepped around the other side of the bed and hugged Santana. "Everyone sends their love."

"Wait, did you two come together?"

The shorter brunette looked at the blonde then they both looked at Santana, "Yes…we're friends." They both smiled.

"Wow, ok…I guess hell froze over while I was out."

They all laughed.

There was another knock on the door, and two men in suits entered. "Hello, we're sorry to interrupt," the shorter man pulled a black leather-bound badge out of his pocket and said, "I'm Detective Sheldon, and this is Detective Mills."

Santana paused mid-bite, looking up at Quinn.

"How are you feeling, Miss Lopez?" the detective asked her. Not getting a response, he said, "Young ladies, would you mind if we have a moment to speak to your friend in private?"'

"No! They can stay," Santana said, panic in her dark brown eyes. She grabbed for Quinn's hand, "Please don't leave me."

"May we ask you a few questions about the night of your prom?"

"Shouldn't you wait until her parents are present?" Rachel asked them.

"We spoke with your mother this morning, I guess we beat her here," the detective said, "If we could just get a few details from you, Santana…is it ok if I call you Santana?"

"That's my name."

"Right," Detective Sheldon smiled awkwardly, "We're trying to find a few missing details, and the quicker we can do that, the quicker we can move forward."

Rachel looked at the young Latina, "Should I leave?"

Santana softened slightly, "No…you can stay too." Rachel patted her friend on the shoulder in support.

"Santana, you attended your prom with David Karofsky?" the shorter detective asked, pulling out a small black notepad and a pen.

"Yes."

"Had the two of you been dating prior to that night?"

"Yes…for a few weeks."

"Were you intimate with him?"

"Hey!" Quinn interjected.

Detective Sheldon looked at the girls. A moment of tense silence passed before Santana answered, "No."

Quinn and Rachel unintentionally flinched with surprise, their heads tilting to look at the brunette.

"_No_…I never even kissed him," she added with emphasis.

"Did you plan to meet him at the football stadium the night of prom?"

"No, I accidentally ran into him there."

"What were you doing there then?"

She paused. "Smoking."

"Why did you go there to smoke?"

"I went there, because I knew my ex-boyfriend hid cigarettes under the snack booth."

"Were you drinking too?"

"No, I wasn't."

"Santana…we need you to be truthful if you were."

Both girls looked at her.

"I swear! Dave was drinking under the bleachers…but I had nothing to drink."

"Is that were you found him?"

"Yes, I just bumped into him there…he was already there and had found Puck's bottle of scotch."

"Who is Puck?"

"My ex."

"So…Puck…keeps liquor and cigarettes under the bleachers?"

All three girls nodded.

"I bet he's a fun date," Detective Mills added from the corner of the room.

"Leave Puck out of this," Quinn defended.

"Why? Did you date him too?" Detective Mills smiled.

"Not exactly…," the blonde former cheerleader hesitated under the interrogating gaze of the detectives, "I had a baby with him."

"What is your name?" Detective Sheldon asked.

"Quinn Fabray."

She watched him write her name in his notebook. "It's two Ns, actually."

He added an N then said, "your name has been mentioned in the course of our investigation. We'll need to speak with you separately…soon, ok?"

He looked at Rachel, "What is your name?"

"Rachel…Berry…with an e."

"Did you date this Puck too?" Detective Sheldon asked jokingly with a sarcastic smile.

"Umm…yes, actually," she shifted awkwardly, flattening the collar on her shirt, "…briefly."

"I'm sorry…what does Puck have to do with any of this? We should be focused on that _monster_, Karofsky," Quinn's temper was raised.

Detective Sheldon looked over at Detective Mills. "Santana, can you tell us what happened under the bleachers that night?"

Santana grabbed Quinn's hand for support. "Like I said, he was drinking. He got very angry at me…and he got very violent."

"What made him so angry?"

"Just some stuff that we said."

"Stuff? Were you two fighting?"

"Sort of, I guess."

"Would you elaborate please?"

She paused and took a deep breath, "Dave Karofsky is gay."

Quinn and Rachel looked at Santana in shock. The detective made a note in his book. "Go on…," he instructed.

"I said some things that set him off," she said guardedly, "He's very sensitive about it."

"About being gay?"

Santana nodded. "Only a few people know. He doesn't want it to get out."

"It's a little late for that," Detective Mills stated the obvious.

"If you knew he was gay then why were you dating him?" the shorter detective asked.

Santana's mind started racing with how much information to reveal. "I…was…um, covering for him."

"I see…," Detective Sheldon wrote in his notebook, "so he was angry and became violent…what happened next?"

"He attacked me."

"Can you be more specific?" he asked cautiously.

All eyes were on the young Latina, making her visibly nervous.

"He pushed me against a wall and choked me," she recalled, "then somehow…we ended up on the ground…he was on top of me." She shuddered at the returning memories. Quinn and Rachel both moved closer to the brunette beauty, holding each of her hands tightly in solidarity. "He punched me in the head, I remember that."

"What else, Santana…?" the officer prodded gently.

"He held me down and raped me." Tears streamed down her face.

"You told us he was gay a few minutes ago," the Detective Mills pointed out, "So now I'm confused."

Rachel pulled a tissue from the box next to Santana's hospital bed and handed it to the taller brunette.

"I'm telling you what happened," she said defensively. "He told me he was going to prove he wasn't and then he…." She covered her face with her hands as the vision of Karofsky on top of her flashed in her memory.

"Who left the bleachers first?"

"When he finished, he just got up and left…like it was nothing," she said sadly.

"And what did you do?"

"Cried."

Detective Sheldon gave her a sympathetic look, "Then?"

"I went to find my friend," Santana's thoughts went to Brittany. _If only I had gone to prom as her date…none of this would have even happened._

"That would be Brittany…," Detective Sheldon flipped back a couple of pages in his notebook, "Pierce?"

"Yes…how did you know that?" Santana was confused.

"We spoke with Ms. Pierce," he responded, "So after you left the stadium, you met up with her…and then?"

"We…Brittany and I…took her home," Quinn added.

"Did you tell anyone what happened to you, Santana?"

"I only told Brittany and Quinn that night."

"Why didn't you report this to the police?"

"They tried to get me to…but I…just…." The Latina looked down.

"Look, she was hurt and she was in shock that night," Quinn defended, "My guess is you've already seen her medical records…that should answer your questions right there. Anything else that beast has to say is complete shit!"

The two detectives stared at the trio in silence until Detective Sheldon cleared his throat and asked Rachel, "And you weren't with them that night?"

"No. I left the school before any of them."

"Ok, girls…thank you for your time," Detective Sheldon pulled a white business card from his pocket and set it down on the hospital table, "Santana, if you think of other details that would be helpful to our investigation then please call that number and ask for Detective Mills or myself."

The three girls nodded as the two suit-clad men left the room.

Santana rolled the top of the brown paper bag that still sat in her lap and moved it to the hospital table that crossed over her bed, "I'm not very hungry now."

Quinn rubbed the back of Santana's head affectionately, "I'm sorry, sweetie." 

* * *

><p>As the bell to begin the period rang, Will Shuester walked through the doorway leading from his side office into the choir room, "Alright, class…quiet down please. Everyone take a seat."<p>

The mood among the Glee Club members was upbeat. Finn was seated in the second row, holding Rachel Berry's hand. Artie was laughing with Tina and Mike Chang. Puck was flexing his arm muscles to Lauren's delight.

Quinn was reading in the back row and looked up briefly as Mr. Shuester entered.

"Brittany, what's the latest with Santana?" he asked the tall blonde.

"She was released earlier today…yay," she gave a celebratory fist pump in the air. A round of applause was shared throughout the group.

"That is wonderful news!" he said, "Ok everybody, I know you all are glad it's Friday, but I want to remind you that we leave for New York in twelve days…so that means no time off this weekend."

A mixture of excitement and groans were heard from the Glee Club members.

"I want to see you guys back up here at 10:00 sharp in the morning, ok?" he instructed, "Oh, and I'm still missing consent forms from a couple of you…please remember to bring those with you tomorrow. We'll meet in the auditorium…don't be late."

There was a knock on the door behind him. "William…I need to speak with you immediately," Principal Figgins said.

"Class, excuse me…," Will added as he passed Brad, seated at the piano, "Please start warm-ups."

Will stepped into the hallway, closing the door behind him.

"What's going on?" he asked the principal.

"The Lima PD have an arrest warrant for David Karofsky."

Will sighed deeply. "I know that will be a relief for Santana and her family."

"I told them he was a no-show at school today."

"Did they go to his house?"

"He was gone, Will."

"Gone?"

"Fled."

Will was shocked at this news. "I, um…what…did his father say?"

"Gone too, Will…David and his parents."

"That's crazy," Will shook his head in disbelief, "Have you spoken with Santana's parents?"

"I phoned them just now. They are understandably frustrated, but I got the impression they are eager for Santana to fall back into her normal routine."

"Are they going to let her go with us to Nationals."

"I think so, yes," Figgins responded, "I trust that you will reassure them you'll watch over her closely?"

"Of course," Will extended his hand to the gentle principal as a confirmation of safekeeping, "Thank you for letting me know."

Principal Figgins smiled and shook Will's hand. 

* * *

><p>"Knock Knock…," Brittany announced as she pushed open Santana's cracked bedroom door. She beamed when she saw Santana sitting up on her bed, legs crossed at the ankles, reading a book.<p>

"Hey there…come on in," the dark-haired beauty told her.

"How happy are _you_ to be home?" she asked, closing the bedroom door behind her.

"Totally happy…I think a week in the hospital is plenty," the Latina smiled, moving over on the bed so the tall blonde could join her.

"I'm happy too," Brittany told her, giving her a kiss on the lips.

"I could get used to that kind of greeting."

The young blonde grinned widely, "So do you think you'll feel up to going to Glee rehearsal in the morning?"

Santana sighed. "I don't know, Britt." She had been uneasy about the impending reunion ever since Brittany mentioned it earlier on the phone.

Brittany frowned. "You've seemed stronger the last couple of days."

"Yeah, I feel pretty decent…I'm just…worried," her voice trailed off.

"About Glee Club?"

"About seeing everybody again…now that they…know about what happened."

"Oh sweetie, no…you don't have anything to be worried about…everyone is so excited to see you again. It hasn't been the same without you."

"They don't think anything…_bad_…about me?"

"Bad? Why would they?" Brittany pulled her love close to her, "You have shown all of us how courageous you are. We're so proud of you."

"Thank you," Santana lean into the blonde and kissed her deeply.

Brittany broke the contact first, drawing in a settling breath and smiling, "So…you'll come?"

"Sure." Santana rolled over on top of the blue-eyed blonde, kissing her again, even more passionately, allowing her tongue to explore Brittany's tongue as Brittany ran her hands down the brunette's sides and rested them on her shapely backside. Santana broke the kiss first this time, her heart pounding wildly in her chest. "I need to work on my stamina," she laughed.

Brittany returned the laugh, "I don't mind helping with that." She pulled the Latina into another long kiss before releasing her hold on the brunette's dark locks and placing her cheek against Santana's cheek.

Santana laid on top of Brittany, relishing the physical contact for several minutes and listening to the sound of the blonde's breathing.

The silence was broken by a sharp rap on the door. "Girls?" Mrs. Lopez said, causing a very flustered Santana to quickly push away from Brittany as she sat up and pulled a small throw pillow into her lap just as the door opened.

"Dinner will be ready shortly," Santana's mother said, "Brittany, will you be joining us?"

Brittany looked over at Santana who folded her arms and smiled awkwardly at the blonde. "Um, I guess…," Brittany replied.

"Come down soon, girls," the older Latina said as she pulled the door closed.

Several seconds of silence hung in the bedroom before the tall blonde turned to the brunette and said, "Ok…what was _that_ about?"

"What?"

"That…." She motioned toward Santana and the pillow.

The brunette looked at her with confusion.

"I'm sorry…but am I missing something?" Brittany pulled her long legs up underneath her to sit crisscrossed on the bed. "I thought we were together now?"

"We are…_but_…that's my mother," the young Latina defended.

"Santana, I'm gonna go," Brittany stood and slipped on her shoes, moving toward the door.

"Wait…," the brunette was right behind her, grabbing the blonde's long arm, "stop…why are you leaving?"

"Seriously?"

"I don't understand why you're upset."

Brittany drew in a deep calming breath then slowly released it, "Maybe I'm overreacting, but I'm just tired of hiding, Tan."

Santana looked down.

The tall blonde took each of Santana's hands in each of hers, "Honey, I'm not trying to push you…I'm really not…I just can't live in secrecy. I'm sorry." Brittany leaned in and kissed Santana softly on the lips then turned and left.

Santana lay back down on the bed and pulled her knees to her chest, burying her face in her pillow, as a soft sob broke free. 

* * *

><p>"Here, Mr. Shue," Finn handed a blue sheet of paper to Will before sitting down next to Rachel in the front row of the McKinley High auditorium.<p>

Will looked the form over before slipping it inside his red notebook, "Excellent, Finn…thank you!" He put a check mark next to Finn Hudson on his "New Directions – Nationals" list then said, "Sam, I still need your form…did you bring it with you?"

Sam stood up and walked over to Will, and said softly, "Mr. Shue…I'm still not sure about the funds for the trip."

Will smiled at the handsome blond teen, "Sam…I already told you…the plane tickets and hotel are covered…just bring whatever you can, and I'll make sure you don't go hungry, ok?"

Sam swallowed hard at the generosity of his Glee director, "Thanks, Mr. Shue."

"Great…now make sure you bring your signed form next time," he reminded, giving Sam a supportive pat on the shoulder.

"Here's mine, Mr. Shue," a deep, raspy voice said from behind him.

Will turned around. "Santana!" he exclaimed, giving her a big hug, "I was hoping you'd join us today."

Her classmates stood and gathered around the dark-haired beauty, each hugging her tightly.

"You look great, Santana," Quinn told her, putting her arm around the brunette's broad shoulders.

"I think you look…fabulous," Kurt added with a dramatic gesture.

"Thank you," she smiled at them, happy to be among her Glee family.

The Latina saw Brittany out of the corner of her eye, chatting with Artie of all people. She turned to give a small wave, but the blonde turned the other direction. Santana's heart sunk.

"Well, this is fantastic," Will moved to stand in front of the auditorium seats, "The whole gang is back together again."

The Glee Club applauded, and everyone smiled except Brittany…and Santana, who could only look longingly at the sad blonde.

"Ok, guys…I think we'll start trying to choreograph the group number first today."

"Mr. Shue?" Santana spoke up.

"Yes, Santana?"

"If you don't mind, I have something important."

"Ok..sure," Will responded, slightly confused.

The brunette beauty moved to stand next to him, facing her peers. "I know I'm sort of easing back into this…so if you all will indulge me…I brought a song with me that's actually for our last assignment I missed while I was out."

"Oh, ok…that's great, Santana…we'd love to hear it," Will encouraged the clearly nervous teen.

Santana pulled a piece of folded sheet music from the pocket of her fitted, fleece jacket, trying to smooth it out as best she could before handing it to Brad who was silently seated at the nearby piano. He looked over it a moment then slid over slightly, patting the empty space next to him.

She sat down on the piano bench, crossing her legs at the knee, her hands shaking, and said, "Somebody recently called me courageous…but...that's not accurate."

The faces of the Glee Club members each had a look of puzzlement on them as they stared at the mysterious Latina. Brittany looked most bewildered, tensely tucking her long hair behind both ears.

"I've been living in fear…for too long…denying my true self to everyone, and…I don't want to live like that any longer…because…that's not really living…," the brunette apprehensively rambled. Her thoughts had seemed so much clearer in her head earlier that morning.

She looked around the audience of her classmates…her _friends_…and swallowed hard to bring back some moisture to her dry mouth then cautiously revealed, "I'm gay."

Several heads reflectively turned to look at those Glee members seated around them, everyone's eyes wide in response to her statement. Santana didn't wait for verbal reactions. "So, that said…this song is for my girlfriend," Santana boldly stated as all heads then turned toward Brittany. The elated blonde smiled lovingly.

Santana nudged Brad who started playing the soft chords of Billy Joel's, "She's Got A Way," as the brunette's sultry but quivering voice sang:

_She's got a way about her  
>I don't know what it is<br>But I know that I can't live without her  
>She's got a way of pleasin'<br>I don't know what it is  
>But there doesn't have to be a reason anyway…<em>

_She's got a smile that heals me  
>I don't know why it is<br>But I have to laugh when she reveals me  
>She's got a way of talkin'<br>I don't know why it is  
>But it lifts me up when we are walkin' anywhere…<em>

_She comes to me when I'm feelin' down  
>Inspires me without a sound<em>

_She touches me  
>and I get turned around…<em>

_She's got a way of showin'  
>How I make her feel<br>And I find the strength to keep on goin'  
>She's got a light around her<br>And ev'rywhere she goes  
>A million dreams of love surround her<br>ev'rywhere…_

_She comes to me when I'm feelin' down  
>Inspires me without a sound<br>She touches me, I get turned around…_

_She's got a smile that heals me  
>I don't know why it is<br>But I have to laugh when she reveals me  
>She's got a way about her<br>I don't know what it is  
>But I know that I can't live without her anyway, hey…<em>

The piano notes faded softly and the auditorium erupted in supportive applause as Santana's heartfelt ballad ended. She wiped at the tears falling from her dark-brown eyes. Brad gave her a reassuring pat on the shoulder. Before she finished standing, Brittany ran up to her and enveloped her in a hug.

"You _are_ courageous," she whispered in Santana's ear, "And I love you so much."

Santana pulled back from the tight embrace and said, "I meant every word of that song," then she kissed the tall blonde firmly on the lips, oblivious to anyone else in the auditorium.

There was more bolstering applause from the Glee Club which pulled Santana back into the reality of her surroundings. She blushed then smiled in relief, realizing that none of her friends appeared particularly surprised or judgmental toward her.

"Thank you, Santana," Will approached her, giving her a hug, "I think you embodied our Emotions lesson…that was wonderful and we're so glad you are back with us…you totally schooled these guys." He grinned widely, turning to the other teens, "Right?"

"Totally, Mr. Shue," Puck agreed and winked at Santana.

"Group hug!" Kurt encouraged, tears of solidarity in his eyes. They all moved toward Brittany and Santana in a giant hug.

"Awesome, you guys," Will said, proud of his students, "Ok, everyone up on stage…let's get to work."


	5. Chapter 5

**Her Smile Heals Me** (part 5)

Brittany stood on her tip-toes and stretched her long arms to reach a turquoise suitcase which sat in the back corner of the top shelf in her closet, her pink tank top rising slightly, revealing her muscular back. She managed to grip the handle to drag it down toward her just as she felt fingernails scratch lightly around both sides of her waist.

She jumped slightly at the unexpected contact as she was pulled into an embrace from behind, tanned arms wrapping tightly around her. "That tickled," she laughed.

"I know," Santana's voice practically purred with satisfaction. She tightened her hold on the tall blonde for a brief moment, breathing in the calming scent of Brittany's freshly-washed hair.

Brittany turned out of Santana's embrace to set the empty suitcase on the floor before pulling the shorter girl into a kiss. "I was hoping you'd come by today," Brittany said once contact was broken.

"Yeah, my mom forgot to lock my cage door when she left for Mass," the Latina retorted.

"She's just worried about you, Santana."

"She's been watching me like a hawk. I hate it," she grimaced, "I'm surprised she doesn't ask to look in the toilet before I flush."

Brittany laughed. "You're adorable when you pout," she said, kissing the brunette on her forehead.

"At least my parents are letting me go to New York with everyone."

"They know how important this trip is for Glee Club."

"Well, I should still probably search my bags for tracking devices."

"Don't give her any ideas!" Brittany laughed.

"So are you already packing, Britt?" Santana inquired.

"You're not?"

"You know me, I'll wait until Wednesday night then just toss everything in a duffle bag," the Latina self-jeered.

"True!" Brittany pulled Santana onto the bed as she settled back against the colorful collection of pastel pillows. "Then you'll whine to use all my stuff that you forgot to bring," she giggled.

"Well, that is one of the perks of having a girlfriend, isn't it?" the brunette smiled.

Brittany rolled enough to situate Santana on top of her, and said, "So is this…."

She began to kiss a light trail up the brunette's throat and around the side of her neck. She heard Santana groan softly as she used her tongue to lick up behind her left ear, sucking gently on her pulse point.

"Girlfriends are a good thing, huh?" she whispered into Santana's ear, applauding herself internally as the heat from her breath caused the brunette to reflexively curve further into her.

"Uhuh…," was all the Latina could verbalize.

Brittany ran her hands up the sides of Santana's shoulders, ending up with them on each side of her neck, pulling the brunette into a deep kiss. Brittany shifted to part her legs, allowing Santana to maneuver in between them. The teen closed her blue eyes and entangled her long fingers among Santana's dark locks. Deepening their kiss, Brittany slipped her tongue between the brunette's plump lips.

As their kissing grew more heated, Brittany slipped her hands underneath Santana's white t-shirt, wanting to feel her skin. As she moved her hands across the brunette's slender waist and up the taut muscles of her back, Brittany mentally noted she was not wearing a bra.

Santana surprised the blonde by pulling herself up on her knees, breaking their kiss at the last possible second by clenching Brittany's bottom lip with her teeth and stretching it until it pulled away because of the increased distance. Brittany felt tingles instantly, the sensation pulsing through her entire body until she felt increased heat in her groin.

As she sat up, Santana pulled her shirt the rest of the way over her shoulders, lifting her arms to remove it completely.

"Is that better?" the Latina beauty asked with a playful smile, discarding the shirt over the side of the bed.

"Umm…," Brittany found herself lost for words, her mind racing with the sight of Santana's exposed breasts, the brightness of the sunlit bedroom, and the loud screeches of her little sister and her friends playing in the backyard.

Santana leaned back down, reading her girlfriend's facial expression, "Don't worry, babe…I locked the door."

Brittany smiled…_babe_…_I like that_, she thought…as her lips were captured again in a long kiss. She gently ran her hands along the curve of Santana's back, her fingertips outlining each vertebra. Brittany's gentle touch sent shivers throughout Santana's body.

Without breaking contact, Brittany wrapped one of her strong arms around the brunette and leaned her slightly to the right, softly caressing the side of Santana's breast with the back of her bent fingers. The tender gesture was returned with a deeper exploration of Santana's tongue in Brittany's mouth. As their passionate kisses continued, Brittany cupped her left hand around the fullness of Santana's breast, running the pad of her thumb over its nipple, feeling an instant reaction as it hardened under her touch.

Brittany wanted to feel the Latina's chest against her own so she rolled Santana over onto her back so she could sit up to remove her tank, unintentionally pinning the brunette to the bed with all her weight as Brittany placed her hands on Santana's shoulders to push herself upright.

Santana's eyes were closed so the motion of being forced onto her back by Brittany caught the Latina off-guard, the sensation of Brittany's full weight on top her unexpectedly incited a repressed memory. Her eyes shot open as her mind flashed with images of being held down on the hard ground, Karofsky looming over her, crushing her beneath him, a stench of liquor and sweat permeating the air. Her pulse quickened even faster than it had been a few seconds before and her breath completely left her. She grabbed at her chest with both hands, not able to draw in air, her mind spinning, as she wildly pushed out from underneath Brittany to escape the sensation of being trapped, tumbling over the edge of the bed and landing hard on her back onto Brittany's bedroom floor.

"Santana!" Brittany looked over the side of the bed then quickly moved to help her sit up.

The Latina could only gasp for air as she frantically clutched her tightened chest, tears forming in her dark eyes.

"Breathe, honey…shhh, stay calm and take slow breaths," Brittany instructed, trying to control her own fright. This was not the first panic attack she'd witnessed Santana have since the rape, never knowing what was going to trigger one, but all she knew to do was to talk her through it.

Santana tried to focus on the sound of Brittany's voice, pushing away the memories of prom night, replacing them with the soothing words she could hear coming from the blonde teen, as she fought to slow her breathing.

"Just keep breathing…in and out…slowly…in and out…," Brittany looked deep into the young brunette's brown eyes, seeing her pupils slowly reset themselves as her breathing became less labored, "…you're safe, Santana…nobody can hurt you now, ok?"

Santana nodded as she drew in a slightly deeper breath, feeling herself start to calm. She leaned into Brittany, placing her head on her shoulder, as the blonde wrapped her long arms around Santana's bare back. The two girls sat quietly, Brittany gently rocking Santana, until the brunette's breathing returned to normal.

Santana coughed then lifted her head to look at her love, tears escaping from the corners of her eyes, "I'm so sorry."

"What are you sorry for…I'm the one who should apologize…I should have gone slower…," Brittany's eyes were moist from emotion too.

"No…no, please don't do that," Santana begged.

"Do what?" Brittany looked at her with confusion.

"Let him win!"

"What are you talking about?"

"If you feel guilty because I can't keep my shit together then you'll never touch me again…then he wins," she cried.

"Santana, you're not making any sense," Brittany tried to pull her close again, but the brunette pushed her away, standing up and pulling on her t-shirt.

"Tan, stop!" Brittany stood quickly, grabbing the Latina by the arm before she reached the bedroom door, "Please don't leave upset."

Santana yanked her wrist from Brittany's grip, moving closer to the door.

Brittany quickly put both arms around her from behind and held her tightly, "I hardly get time alone with you…please don't leave like this."

The dark-haired teen stood there unyielding before finally asking, "Why does it even matter?"

"Because…your shirt is on inside out," the taller girl said simply, causing Santana to chuckle despite her gloom.

The Latina looked down at her chest and noticed the crinkled tag sticking up before turning around to face Brittany. "It's backwards too," she gave a half-smile.

"Yeah, I know," the blonde grinned.

"You're a dork, you know that, right?"

"Yep," Brittany said nonchalantly.

Santana's body stance relaxed, and she put her arms around Brittany's waist, "I'm sorry, ok?"

"Don't be…," she told her, "Things will get easier, honey, I promise you."

"Maybe."

"Well…I do know this…if you think I'm never going to touch you again…you are sooo wrong."

Santana smiled and pulled her into a tight embrace. 

* * *

><p>"Quinnie, can you see who's at the door?" Mrs. Fabray yelled down the stairs to her daughter.<p>

The blonde teen closed her calculus book, set her pencil down, and pushed back from the oversized desk in what used to be her father's office before her mom found out he was having an affair and kicked him out of their palatial house. The way of sin comes with a hefty price tag, Quinn had learned over the past two years. She had sex once…with Puck of all people…_still not really sure why on that one_, the devout Catholic girl thought to herself…and she ended up pregnant. No amount of Hail Mary prayers, celibacy club meetings, or apologies to her parents before her father disowned her had changed her circumstance last year. Now, this latest lesson on the repercussions of sin was courtesy of her father, the one man she thought she would never see falter. His legacy in her life was that love and affection are conditional and that a guilty conscience pays the mortgage.

The doorbell rang a second time.

"I'm coming," Quinn announced ahead of her arrival. She reached the large entryway just as the visitor knocked on the other side of the front door.

"Sorry," Brittany said as the wooden barrier gave way beneath the movement of her knuckles.

"Hey, Britt…," Quinn greeted the taller blonde, "Come in." The shorter girl stepped aside for Brittany to pass through the threshold.

"Who is it, sweetheart?" Quinn's mother called out as she stepped downed the staircase. "Oh, Brittany…hello," Mrs. Fabray said with a polite smile as she spotted the teen.

"Hi, Mrs. Fabray…oh, wait…am I supposed to still call you that?" Brittany looked awkwardly at Quinn for guidance.

The older woman blushed at the innocent question, "Why don't you just call me Judy, dear."

"Like in Bambi?" Brittany looked at Quinn for clarification.

Quinn gave the taller girl a strained smile and nodded to appease her.

"Well, I'll leave you girls to chat. There's sandwich stuff in the refrigerator if anyone's hungry."

"Thanks, Mom," Quinn answered as she watched her mother climb back up the stairs. She turned to Brittany, noticing the girl seemed overheated, "Did you walk all the way here? I didn't see a car in the driveway."

"I jogged," she responded, "Could I get some water?"

"Sure," Quinn told her, "Come in my dad's…there's bottled water in the study."

Brittany picked up on her friend's slip of tongue but decided to pretend it was unnoticed. Quinn walked through the open French-style doors into the paneled office and over to the built-in bar, opening the door to a small refrigerator and removing two chilled bottles of water. She turned and handed one to Brittany.

"Thanks," she said, loosening and removing the cap and taking a long drink, "I'm sorry I didn't call first. I just kind of ended up here."

"Sit down and relax," Quinn motioned to the couch as she took her place at one end, slipping off her sandals and repositioning a large back cushion. She watched Brittany sit at the other end. The taller blonde tossed her light gray hoodie to the floor next to her as she tucked one of her long legs to sit sideways, facing Quinn.

"So…what's bothering you, Britt?" Quinn inquired.

"Why do you ask that?" the taller blonde looked at her suspiciously.

"Well, because when you're worried, you jog…aimlessly…and three miles to my house on a Sunday evening is pretty aimless."

Brittany took a deep breath, "It's Santana."

"Aha, girlfriend trouble."

"No, nothing like that. Things are great between us," Brittany reassured.

"Oh good…because I'm really happy for you two," Quinn smiled at her dear friend.

"Thanks," she said as her fingers delicately played with the fringe around the edge of the decorative pillow in her lap.

"Sooo…why don't you seem happy if things are great?"

Brittany looked up at Quinn, "I'm scared for her, Q. She still won't talk about what happened…not even to me."

"She's seemed pretty normal at school," the shorter girl observed.

"She's faking it," Brittany said sadly.

"And you know this, how?"

"She's been having panic attacks…and they are getting worse. She had a bad one earlier today at my house."

"Did anything specific cause it?"

Brittany blushed and looked down.

"Britt…?" Quinn prodded, trying to infer between the lines, "Does this have anything to do with…_intimate_…moments?"

Brittany didn't respond so Quinn took hold of one of her hands and squeezed it. "Brittany, you can talk to me."

"I never know when…or where…to touch her that won't upset her." The taller blonde took in a deep breath and looked up to see genuine interest on Quinn's face so she continued. "Kissing goes okay, but…it's just confusing. It's like she wants to do more but then…that's when she freaks out," Brittany confessed, "…was that too much sharing?"

"Hmm? No, I mean I figure it's basically the same for two girls as it is for a girl with a guy, right? Though…I guess I'm sort of lacking in that world too…I mean I haven't experienced much…_variety_…so…what was the question?"

"This is making you uncomfortable."

"No! No, I can talk about sex," Quinn stammered, "That _is_ what we're talking about, right?"

"Yes, Q…girls can have sex together too."

"I know that, Britt. Sex is sex, right? Sort of…? Ok, yeah…I'm not really sure how two girls have sex."

"It feels totally different with a girl actually."

"Besides the obvious…," Quinn sounded intrigued, "…in what way?"

"It's softer…but much more intense. Like…," Brittany's thoughts went to her times with Santana, "…Moose Tracks ice cream instead of plain vanilla."

"So it's…satisfying? With a girl?" Quinn blushed at her own question.

"Totally," Brittany grinned at the shorter blonde.

"I don't know what it's like to share that with someone," Quinn confessed, a look of longing in her green eyes.

Brittany's heart hurt for Quinn, causing her to grimace.

"Anyway…back to Santana…she loves you, Britt. She just needs time to process what was done to her. Rape's not just physical…it's mental and emotional too."

"Yeah, I know…but what do I do to help her move forward?"

"She really needs counseling…this is too much for you to shoulder alone." Quinn reached into the side pocket of the red, cable-knit sweater she was wearing and pulled out her phone.

"Who are you calling?" Brittany asked, watching Quinn's fingers push its tiny black buttons.

"I'm not," she said flatly, scrolling through her contacts, "I stored some information from a business card Ms. Pillsbury gave me. Do you have your phone with you?"

"Yes," Brittany told her as she leaned down to remove it from the pocket of her hoodie, first unplugging the black wire of her headphones then sliding it open to a ready position.

"I'm sending you the contact info for a female psychiatrist who Ms. Pillsbury recommended. Try to talk with Santana about making an appointment."

The phone in Brittany's hand buzzed. "Dr. Shane…," she read aloud while saving the name to her contacts.

"Santana listens to you, Brittany," Quinn put her hand on Brittany's knee, gently patting it, "It's worth a try at least."

"Ok…," Brittany sighed deeply, checking the time on her phone, "I need to go home now…my parents will start worrying."

Quinn stood, slipping her feet back into her shoes, "Come on, I'll drive you."

"Thanks, Quinn…," Brittany stood too, leaning over to hug the shorter blonde lovingly, "…for everything." 

* * *

><p>"Do you think we'll need jackets in New York?" Tina asked Rachel. Rachel sat in the front row of risers in the choir room Tuesday afternoon, her lavender notebook opened in her lap as she flipped through several sheets of printed pages.<p>

"I've printed out everything we need to know about New York City…or as I like to call it 'The Great White Way'…," the petite brunette turned to look over her shoulder at Tina Cohen-Chang who sat in the row behind her, "…that's how people in the Broadway scene refer to it…."

"Yes, you're right, Rachel…if you live in a 1942 Judy Garland movie," Kurt dismissed.

"Kurt's sarcasm aside…," Rachel hissed, "…yes, at least a light jacket would be appropriate since it gets chilly at night there in May."

"I still don't get how it's an apple," Brittany admitted to Santana who just smiled lovingly and shrugged as the start-of-class bell sounded.

Will Shuester entered the choir room from his side office, carrying a stack of light blue paper. "Hot off the press, ladies and gents…," he announced.

"What are those, Mr. Shue?" Sam asked.

"Itineraries for Nationals!" he exclaimed.

A round of applause spread through the room as Will pulled a copy for himself then handed the stack to Artie in the first row, "Take one and pass the stack."

Brittany released Santana's hand to lean forward and grab the stack from Mercedes in front of them. She handed one to the Latina then kept another one before passing the rest to Mike Chang.

"Ok, class – pay close attention to this first part. That is NOT a typo. You need to be standing in the parking lot Thursday morning at 6:30 AM."

His announcement was met with groans and heavy sighs. "No exceptions…_Santana_," Mr. Shuester singled out, looking directly at the dark-haired teen, "The bus to the airport is leaving at 6:35 on the dot. You must be on it or we'll send you a postcard."

Santana grimaced, internally knowing it was a fair statement. Brittany chuckled softly.

"Second thing I want to point out – Pack lightly…please. We will only be there three days. I will not be offended if I see you wear the same shoes more than once. Shoes are heavy…and heavy luggage costs extra, ok?"

"You're starting to sound like my mom, Mr. Shue…," Puck accused.

"This trip is so important for us, guys! We need this type of exposure," Will encouraged the group, "If we can win this thing…."

"_If_…, Mr. Shue?" Finn asked for clarification.

"When…we win this," the handsome Glee director smiled at his club members, "…so many opportunities will open up for our group."

"Then it'll be first class all the way next year…right, Mr. Shue?" Puck envisioned.

"All the way…," Will laughed and clasped his hands in front of him.

The enthusiastic teens smiled back at him and at each other.

"Ok, Finn, Rachel…come on up here and let's run through the ballad." 

* * *

><p>The Glee members vacated the room after the bell rang, ending the class period. Brittany called ahead to Santana as the brunette reached the door, "Go ahead…I forgot something."<p>

"I can wait…?" she answered, turning around.

"I'll just catch up to you."

Santana looked puzzled but shrugged and walked out of the choir room.

Brittany turned back around to see Quinn step down from the middle riser. "What's going on?" the shorter blonde smiled.

Once Quinn caught up to her, the taller blonde whispered, "I called Dr. Shane's office after school yesterday."

"And…?"

"She answered the phone herself," Brittany said, "She was really nice when I told her why I was calling."

"Ms. Pillsbury spoke highly of her," Quinn assured, "What did she suggest?"

"She made Santana an appointment…for tomorrow."

"That was fast."

"She felt she needs to open up about everything…as soon as possible."

Quinn frowned at the confirmation that her dear friend was in such emotional distress. "Do you think she'll go?"

"I'm not sure how to make that happen," Brittany worried, "I don't know if I should go to her mom…but that would just make things way worse."

"Perhaps you could find a way for her to just _show up_?"

"Show up where?" the taller blonde looked very confused.

"At the appointment…."

"You mean, like…trick her?"

Quinn shrugged.

"No, I don't think that would be fair…besides, Santana would lose her shit."

"Well, you know her better than anybody else, Britt."

"Yeah." Quinn's statement was less than comforting to Brittany with the responsibility of worrying about Santana enough for herself and for Santana becoming harder lately.

Quinn gave Brittany an encouraging hug then told her, "Keep me posted, ok?" 

* * *

><p>Santana pulled her English book out of her locker to head to her last class of the day. As she shut the long, narrow door, Rachel Berry appeared from behind it.<p>

"Hello, Santana…," the smaller brunette said cautiously to the unpredictable Latina.

"What's up, dwarf?" Santana replied then turned her head and winked at the petite teen.

Rachel smiled…inside too. "I've wanted to text or call you…to check on how you're doing lately."

Santana paused, unsure of how to respond in this situation. She had never had a random person…_ok,_ _friend_…_sort of_, she admitted internally…inquire into her well-being. Other than Quinn or Puck, that is. Now, the one person who had the desire was the most annoying human being Santana knew.

"That's sweet, Rachel. You could have called," Santana told her as she slid her text book into her black backpack.

"You've never given me your cell number."

"Oh…true." Santana felt a tiny tinge of guilt, "Well, you could've gotten it from Brittany or Quinn."

"They told me I had to ask you directly," Rachel said bluntly.

Santana flushed. "Am I that horrible…?"

"Well…."

Santana cut her off, "Never mind." She shifted her backpack to pull out a small spiral notebook from the front pocket, removing a pen from inside the coiled wire with her left hand and using it to scribble a large S and a seven-digit number on a section of the paper. "Here you go…don't over-use it or I _will _block you," she said with a smirk, ripping the page out of the notebook and handing it to the elated brunette.

"I won't…I swear," Rachel felt a little more relaxed with the fierce Latina, "So, how _are_ you doing, Santana?"

"I'm good," the teen diverted her eyes slightly.

"I've wanted to commend you on coming out of the closet."

"Whoa, what…?" Santana looked around the hallway which was mostly cleared by this point, "Is that what I did?"

"I'm not suggesting you're getting ready to sponsor the Lima Gay Pride Parade next month, but…."

"Hold up…they have one of those?" Santana interrupted, baffled.

"It's a more intimate gathering than in larger cities, mostly consisting of my dads and their friends…and… it's not actually a parade…but it's still festive…you and Brittany are more than welcomed to join in though. We could invite Kurt and Blaine. Now that I think about it…this could be tons of fun!"

"How about tons of no." Santana didn't want any part of hanging out with Rachel Berry and a bunch of gay guys.

"Oh, ok…it was just a thought," she responded, deflated.

"A bad one," Santana nodded.

"Well…I'm still really honored that you trusted all of us in Glee Club…to make your proclamation," Rachel smiled warmly.

"Don't be…it was just…something I needed to get off my chest," the former Cheerio sounded melancholy, "Besides…I did it more for Brittany than for myself."

Rachel reached out to place an understanding hand on Santana's upper arm, squeezing it lightly, "There's a Chinese proverb I've always loved…'the journey of a thousand miles begins with one step'…Sometimes it takes strong motivation to make that first step."

Santana smiled at the shorter brunette as Brittany walked up to the two girls, "Hey! What are you guys talking about?"

"Hi, Brittany…Santana and I were just…chatting," Rachel covered, "I've got to get to class…I'll call you later." She patted Santana's shoulder then turned to walk down the hallway.

"You're already on my nerves, Berry…," the Latina tamely warned.

Rachel didn't turn back around, but she grinned at the progress she was making with her new friend.

"Are we still studying tonight at your house?" Brittany asked.

"If by studying, you mean macking out…then…of course," Santana answered, looking up at the taller girl with a playful smile, "My mom has some kind of meeting tonight."

"Good, cause I have something I want to talk to you about."

"Just tell me now so we can get right down to 'studying' later," Santana teased, emphasizing with air-quotes.

The bell rang out, starting the last class of the day.

"Damn, we're late," Santana rolled her eyes.

"…we'll talk later, ok?" Brittany leaned in and kissed Santana softly on the cheek then ran down the hallway.

Santana quickly scanned the area for any witnesses before taking in a deep, settling breath then walking in the other direction. 

* * *

><p>As Brittany drove her mom's light blue Sienna down the street, she heard her phone buzz from inside the front pocket of her jeans. Pulling it out, she saw a text from Santana: where r u? mom's home already!<p>

"Crap," she said aloud, signaling to turn left into Santana's subdivision. She slowed the car to a stop, waiting on several vehicles to pass her in the oncoming lane. She hadn't realized how late it was getting when she stopped earlier in the evening to help her mom with the dishes and a load of laundry. Brittany recognized how hard her mom worked every day just to come home to make a hot dinner for their family then busy herself the whole evening with domestic chores. The blonde teen felt it was the least she could do before running out to "study" with her girlfriend. _Guess we'll actually be studying now_, Brittany frowned, knowing how careful Santana still was around her parents.

The brightness of the passing cars' headlights made the tall blonde squint as her wandering thoughts refocused inside the van, hearing a song she'd recently connected to begin playing.

_I feel the weight of the world like it's bearing down…And I hardly sleep 'cause there's so much to worry about…_

Brittany reached to turn up the volume on the radio, unable to shake her thoughts of Santana and her own sense of helplessness.

_With everyone looking for something to pin their hopes on…Who's gonna know when to give me the signal to run…And where do I run to…And what should I run from…When everything, everything's crazy…Who's gonna save me…Who's gonna save me._

Brittany made her turn once the cars passed, winding her way down Butler Blvd until she made a right onto Santana's street. _I need to download that one_, she thought as the song ended and another one began.

The blonde eased her mom's van into the driveway to park behind Santana's white Mustang, careful not to nose its bumper. _Good god, she'd strangle me with her bare hands_, Brittany teased internally, stepping out of the driver's side and closing the door behind her. She pushed the button on the remote to set the alarm as she circled around the back of the van to make sure it was sufficiently out of the street.

Brittany could hear shouting in Spanish as she walked up the sloped yard. Before she reached the porch, the Lopez front door opened then slammed shut as Santana flew past the startled blonde without saying a word.

"Santana, wait up!" Brittany turned, walking quickly to catch up with the brunette's frantic pace. "Santana, stop…what's wrong?"

The Latina pulled up the hood on her charcoal gray sweatshirt which had McKinley High in bold red letters on it, tightening the strings until only a portion of her beautiful face could be seen as they passed under a street lamp.

"Is that your way of shutting me out?" Brittany demanded, still trying to keep stride with the angry brunette.

Santana folded her arms firmly around her slender body and kept walking.

"Do you even know where you're going?" Brittany could hear Santana's phone buzzing over and over in the front pocket of her sweatshirt.

"Are you going to answer that…?" the blonde tried, "It's probably your mom."

The two kept walking as the sidewalk of Santana's street ended. The young Latina crossed the street and rounded the corner before stepping onto a wooded path. Brittany's long legs were her only advantage as she took step for step with Santana, following the shorter girl into a darker, unfamiliar area.

Santana's phone gave a short buzz. Brittany lunged toward the brunette, reaching into her front pocket before Santana could stop her.

"What the hell are you doing?" Santana screamed, coming to an abrupt stop.

Brittany pushed the side button on the phone to light the screen, slowing to a stop and reading the text from Santana's mom: COME HOME IMMEDIATELY OR I WILL HAVE THE POLICE TRACK YOU DOWN.

"Saving your **ass**!" Brittany yelled back, her frustration getting the better of her.

Brittany steadied her shaking hands, typing out the reply: just walking to calm down. B's with me. back soon, promise. xo

She hit send then looked up at Santana who glared back. The phone buzzed right back with: SOON!

"Here," she said, handing the phone back to her girlfriend.

Santana snatched it angrily and stuffed it back in her front pocket, fishing around inside before pulling out a cigarette and a flat pack of matches. Without saying a word she put the cigarette between her lips and lit the match, cupping it against the night wind until smoke was successfully escaping her mouth.

"You're smoking now too?"

Santana started walking again in silence. Brittany followed.

"Talk to me, damn it!"

"You followed ME! I didn't ask you to," Santana yelled back, staying a few steps ahead as she crossed a patch of ankle-high grass that led to a footbridge over a railroad track.

Brittany stopped, shaking her head. "I followed you," the blonde shouted as she allowed the distance between them to widen, "BECAUSE I LOVE YOU!"

Santana stopped walking, taking a long drag off her cigarette as she turned toward the side railing of the footbridge. Brittany watched her for a few minutes, standing alone in the moonlight, looking over the edge of the waist-high railing, as a dull orange glow from the end of the cigarette came and went several times.

Once Santana crushed the butt of the cigarette on the metal of the bridge and threw it over onto the tracks below, Brittany slowly walked the distance toward her.

"I hate when you smoke."

"That's why I don't do it around you," Santana retorted, pulling the hood off her head and shaking her long raven hair.

"I hate that you do it all…it'll kill you," Brittany warned, walking up next to her.

"Who the fuck cares…?"

"I care, Santana."

"You shouldn't…," intense silence followed before Santana said flatly, "Besides…I died three weeks ago."

"What…?" Brittany was stunned.

"Part of me did, anyway," Santana responded sadly, looking downward.

Brittany reached to put her arms around the shorter girl, "Santana…."

"Please don't…," she pulled away.

"I love you."

There was a long moment that seemed as though the world stopped spinning while Brittany just stared at Santana while the brunette looked off into the night.

Brittany finally pleaded, "_Please_ talk to me."

"What do you want me to say? 'I love you too'? You know that…or 'I promise to never smoke again, Brittany'…or how about 'I fucking **hate**myself'…huh? Or try this one 'I WANT TO JUMP OFF THIS FUCKING BRIDGE RIGHT NOW AND SMASH MY HEAD OPEN'…how about that one, Britt?"

Brittany's eyes filled with hot tears.

Santana turned to look at her girlfriend, cocking her head to one side, "Is that giving you enough of a glimpse inside my head, Britt?"

"Stop," she asked weakly.

"No, you've wanted to hear my thoughts…sweet, innocent Brittany? Well here they are…I've walk to this exact spot for five nights now and stood here trying to have enough FUCKING GUTS to jump when that train passes…and do you know _why _I don't?"

Brittany sniffed and swallowed hard against her tears. Unable to speak, she shook her head in response.

"Because EVERY fucking night while I'm standing here in this spot, my phone rings…like clockwork, playing that goddamn Dylan song you sang me in the hospital. Then when I can't help but answer it…you remind me much you love me."

"You heard it?" Brittany asked, unable to hold back a sob.

Santana nodded, turning away from the crying blonde. Seeing how much pain she was causing Brittany made Santana hate herself that much more.

"I don't want to be inside my head anymore, Britt…the pain is too much."

Brittany pulled Santana close and held her tightly almost as if she thought it was possible to transport Santana's soul to a safer place.

The broken teen finally began to feel something other than anger and self-loathing, causing Santana to go limp in Brittany's arms as a release of emotion shook her entire body. Brittany slowly lowered both of them to the ground, leaning back against the metal railing as it began to vibrate from the movement of an approaching train.

Brittany held her love close, caressing the curve of Santana's back as she cradled her and kissing the top of her lowered head.

Once the train echoed in the distance and the night around them fell silent again, Brittany wiped at her wet eyes with the long sleeve of her knit jacket and said firmly, "You are going to an appointment with me tomorrow…after school…I'll drive."

Santana looked up at her and asked reluctantly, "What kind of appointment?"

Brittany pulled her close again, "One that will hopefully save your life."


	6. Chapter 6

Author's note: For those of you who were inquiring as to the song mentioned in the last scene of Chapter 5…it is called _Too Late for Heroes_ by Mark Sholtez. Look it up if you're interested, because it is a beautiful song. Also, if anyone has other song suggestions, please feel free to make them. You never know, your idea may weave its way into a chapter. Thanks! KB

**Her Smile Heals Me** (part 6)

Quinn Fabray was curled under her floral duvet in her oversized bed, reading the last few words in the epilogue of the book **Mockingjay**.

_But there are much worse games to play…_Quinn read silently. She loved reading, always had. Quinn could lose herself inside the words of a book whatever circumstances surrounded her. The young blonde had a vivid imagination, and when it was coupled with the characters' lives found on the pages of her books, Quinn was transported to much more exciting places than Lima, Ohio.

Quinn closed the book and reached to set it on the nightstand beside her, turning out the clear glass table lamp next to her bed. She repositioned one of her fluffy pillows, her slim arm curved over the top of it and her hand tucked delicately under her chin, dosing as soon as she closed her eyes.

The teen was quickly awakened by the buzzing of her cell phone as it vibrated against the wood of the nightstand. She reached out her arm, patting around the top of the table, feeling for the phone. As she picked it up and brought it closer to her face, she saw that it was 10:52 PM and that it was Brittany Pierce calling.

"Britt…?" Quinn said, her voice groggy.

"I woke you, huh?"

"It's ok, I just fell asleep…what did you need?"

Silence.

"Britt?"

Quinn could hear soft crying on the other end of the phone. She sat up and reached to turn on the lamp again.

"What's wrong, Brittany?" Quinn prodded, getting no answer other than more crying, "Where are you?"

"Sitting…outside your house," Brittany managed to reveal.

"Come inside, ok," Quinn sweetly instructed, "I'll meet you at the door."

Quinn pushed out from under her covers, sliding her feet into her soft, pink slippers and grabbing her matching robe. As she stepped quietly down the staircase, careful not to disturb her mom who was in the master bedroom at the far end of the hallway, she tightened the robe around her and tied its belt around her trim waist. The young blonde stopped a moment at the bottom of the stairs to enter a four digit code to unset the alarm then moved toward the front door to open it.

She unlatched the deadbolt and opened the heavy wooden door to find Brittany standing on the other side, visibly shivering. "Hey…come in," Quinn whispered, grabbing Brittany's forearm and gently pulling her inside.

Once the taller blonde was through the doorway and standing in the entryway, Quinn shut the door behind them. Putting an arm around Brittany's shoulders, Quinn said, "Come upstairs…it's warmer."

The shorter girl led them up the staircase and into her spacious room, closing the door behind them and immediately asking, "What's going on, Britt?"

Brittany said nothing, but moved toward Quinn, wrapping her long arms around her dear friend and breaking into a sob. Holding her tightly, Quinn let Brittany cry until there was nothing left inside her. Witnessing Brittany emotionally crumble was heartbreaking, causing Quinn to cry with her.

Emotionally spent, Brittany pulled away from Quinn after several minutes and sat down on the soft-carpeted floor, leaning back against the bed, having no more strength to stand.

"Is this about Santana?" Quinn knew there was only one person who could dim Brittany's internal light.

The taller girl nodded, rubbing at both of her burning, weary eyes, trying to put words to the events from earlier in the evening. Brittany had made sure Santana was safely home before leaving her, trying to help smooth things over with Mrs. Lopez who was livid by the time the girls returned home. Trusting that Santana was emotionally stabilized for the night, Brittany drove around thinking, listening to songs on her iPod. When she was no longer able to process her own thoughts and feelings by herself, she found herself sitting outside Quinn's house.

"She almost killed herself tonight, Quinn," the words were overwhelming to the blonde teen when she said them aloud, fresh tears escaping her blue eyes.

Quinn was stunned, "What?…how?...is she ok?"

"She's at home…she didn't go through with it," the taller girl's voice cracked as she spoke, "Q, what if I hadn't been there…?"

"I truly didn't know it was this bad, Britt."

Brittany sniffed and wiped at her tears, "I didn't either."

Quinn sat quietly, sympathetically stroking Brittany's leg, allowing the taller girl to collect herself.

"I feel like I've failed her," Brittany admitted.

"Stop, Brittany…you can't do this to yourself…and it won't help Santana."

"I told her about the therapy session tomorrow…she's going."

"She agreed?"

"She's going…if I have to throw her over my shoulder and carry her kicking and screaming," Brittany said defiantly.

"Good…I'll help tackle her," Quinn said supportively. Both blondes shared a small chuckle at the idea of having to physically overpower the fierce Latina.

"Did you tell her mom about the session?"

"No…not after what happened tonight…she and Santana had a huge fight."

"About what…?"

"I'm still not sure," Brittany revealed, "I think it might have been about me actually."

"Do her parents know you two are dating?"

"If they do, it's not because Santana told them."

"So…she hasn't mentioned…her sexuality…to them?"

"Definitely not."

"Do your parents know?"

"That Santana's gay?" Brittany asked, confused.

"About you, Britt…?"

"What about me?"

"That you're gay?"

"I'm not gay."

Quinn was perplexed, "Um, Britt…you're dating a girl."

"That doesn't make me gay, Quinn."

"I'm so confused right now," the shorter blonde confessed, sitting back against the frame of the bed and crossing her legs at the ankles.

"I guess my sexuality is more in the middle…bi-sexual fits how I feel."

"Have you said anything to your parents?"

"Not directly…but I would never deny it if they asked me," Brittany told her, "Besides, I think they sort of know already…they see Santana at our house more than she's at her own house."

"Brittany…how did you know you were…bi-sexual?" Quinn avoided eye-contact with the taller blonde.

"I don't know exactly…I think I've just always known I was attracted to girls and boys…since I was little," she reflected, "…it never seemed like a big deal…until Santana." Brittany's eyes filled with fresh tears.

Quinn put her arm around Brittany and leaned into her, "Things will seem better in the morning."

* * *

><p>Brittany heard a car honk outside her house Wednesday morning. She rinsed the toothpaste from her green toothbrush and took a sip of water from the glass cup in her hand, swishing it around before spitting into the sink. She wiped her mouth with a nearby hand towel and tightened her pony-tail, checking herself one last time in the vanity mirror, before turning out the bathroom light.<p>

"Santana's out front, B!" her little sister yelled up the stairs.

"I heard the horn…thanks," Brittany acknowledged as she ran down the staircase, slinging her black and pink backpack over her left shoulder and taking two steps at a time. The tall blonde patted the tiny blonde on the head as she rushed past her in the living room, "Have a good day at school, kiddo."

Brittany closed the front door behind her, moving toward the white mustang which idled in her driveway. As soon as she opened the passenger-side door and slid in, tucking her backpack on the floorboard between her long legs, she could smell the aroma of fresh coffee.

Santana smiled and handed her a white paper cup with a brown cup-sleeve hugging the bottom portion, "Extra cream and sugar…just the way you like it."

"Mmm…smells perfect!" Brittany returned the smile before taking a small sip. "Sorry I'm running late…I overslept."

"No worries…the drive-thru at the Bean was backed up."

Brittany leaned over and gave the brunette a kiss on her lips. "Hold this a sec…," she requested, handing the cup back to Santana then pulling her seatbelt and clicking it into place before taking back the cup.

"Did you do any more packing last night?" Santana made conversation as she checked over her shoulder while backing her car out of the Pierce driveway.

"No, I got home way too late," Brittany said passively without thinking.

"Really…? I thought you were going home when you left my house?" she asked, confused.

Brittany wasn't sure what to say in response. Lately, she was never sure what to say at all in front of Santana, finding herself always on edge that she would say the wrong thing or upset her unintentionally. "I…um, I…just drove around for awhile…listening to music…no big deal," she stammered.

Santana's face fell.

Brittany shifted in her seat, putting her left hand on the brunette's leg, "Hey, everything's good, ok?"

The tall blonde could sense Santana's mental wheels turning as the car fell silent. She continued to lovingly rub Santana's thigh as she drove, feeling the brunette's muscles flex under the denim of her tight jeans as she moved her right foot from the gas pedal to the brake and back again as she wound the white sports car through the neighborhood streets. Brittany longed for the day the two of them could return to the ease of being in each other's presence, the way they'd always been before Prom night.

"We should break up," Santana said flatly.

"What?" Brittany wasn't sure she heard Santana correctly over her own wandering thoughts.

"I'm breaking up with you."

"You're kidding, right?...cause that's not funny," the blonde said sarcastically, pulling her hand back and repositioning the fabric shoulder strap of her seatbelt.

"I can't give you what you need, Brittany."

"What do you think I need? Other than just to be with you…?" Brittany's head was still spinning from the night before.

"You need to be with someone who isn't me."

"Stop and think about what you're doing, Santana."

"I am…you deserve better than what I've done to you lately…all the stress and worry…I hate that I'm the cause of all that."

"Yeah, it's been rough…on both of us lately…but you're seriously willing to throw away everything we have together…just like that?" Brittany's desperation was rising.

"I'm doing this for you."

"That's insulting, Santana," Brittany shook her head in disbelief. She sat quietly for a moment, running her index finger around the plastic rim of her coffee cup several times, trying to collect her thoughts, before finally saying, "Do you really think I'm going to stop worrying about you if you break up with me?"

Santana silently pulled the mustang into an empty spot in the student lot of the high school and put it into park.

The two sat for a moment in the parked car as other students hurried past them, trying to make it inside the school before the 7:50 AM bell rang.

"What you are doing to me…_to us_…right this second…is more hurtful than anything else that's been going on." Brittany drew in a shaky breath, trying not to cry, knowing if she started she might never stop.

The Latina continued to look down, checking the watch on her left wrist for the time. 7:42 AM.

Brittany sat quietly, watching her in disbelief, waiting for some sort of response. Getting none, she shouting, "For FUCK'S SAKE say something, Santana…_anything_!"

Santana looked at Brittany with wide eyes, unfamiliar with this emerging side of the tall blonde, as her exasperated words reverberated through the interior of the mustang.

"I don't want to make you late for class," the Latina said softly.

"That's it…?"

Santana turned her head to look out the windshield.

"Well, I guess you don't need to worry about me anymore, do you?" Brittany taunted.

"Fine…be late then," Santana responded calmly, turning off her car's engine.

"Do you still plan on going to your appointment with Dr. Shane?"

Santana hesitated, pulling the key out of the ignition, "I don't know."

Brittany looked at her in silence for several seconds, her eyes tracing every inch of the Latina's face as if it might be her last chance to do so. The blonde's blue eyes clouded over despite her best effort to stay strong. "I have put my heart and soul into loving you, Santana Lopez…but…I can't save you," she finally said as she quickly opened the passenger door and stepped out, slamming it hard behind her and running inside the building.

Santana wiped a falling tear then steadied herself with a deep, calming intake of air, looking at her weary face in the rear-view mirror. _I'm sorry, Britt_…_but I will not pull you down with me_, she internally persuaded herself.

* * *

><p>Movement in the halls of McKinley High was thick as Finn navigated a path to his locker before first period. He was running a mental check of all the things he needed to pack for New York when Puck opened his nearby locker.<p>

"What's up, dude?" Finn asked his best friend.

"Morning…," Puck looked drowsy as usual.

Both guys turned to their right as Brittany ran up to the set of lockers to open hers, throwing her backpack to the ground at her feet and trying to steady her shaking hands in order to enter her locker combo.

"Hey, Britt…," Finn said.

The tall blonde didn't dare look over at him, knowing her tears would invite questions.

"Brittany?" Finn tried again. Getting no response, he looked at Puck and shrugged.

"I got this, dude...," he patted Finn's chest with the back of his fist as he step around him toward the upset girl, "I'll check you later."

Finn closed his locker and walked away. Puck leaned against the metal lockers, close enough to Brittany to afford some measure of privacy as she pulled open the long, narrow door.

"I know that look...," Puck said softly.

Brittany sniffed and swallowed hard, trying to steady her voice, "What look?" She pulled out her text book for first period and closed the door again, never looking at Puck though she could feel his eyes on her.

"That 'Santana Lopez screwed me over' look," he joked.

Brittany leaned forward against the closed locker, her forehead pressed against the cold metal for support. Her whole world was spiraling out of control, leaving her with very little fortitude.

"What happened?" Puck could tell this was serious.

"She just broke up with me." Any bit of composure Brittany was hanging onto vanished, her tears overpowering her.

"She's full of shit…don't let her get to you…she'll come crawling back by lunch," Puck spoke from experience, putting his big arm around her.

"Not this time…," her voice cracked, "…she's completely shutting down now."

"She loves you, Britt."

"I know…that's what makes it worse." She leaned into his broad shoulder and wrapped both arms around him, squeezing tightly.

"What can I do to help?"

"Give me a ride home after school, I guess."

"Done." He squeezed back.

* * *

><p>Santana quickly weaved a path around the students who leisurely headed to their parked cars Wednesday afternoon. The day had been disastrous so far. The brunette barely survived history class, sitting next to Brittany, that morning. She kept checking on her out of the corner of her eye, knowing she was the cause of the tall blonde's red, puffy eyes. In Spanish class, Puck had shot silent daggers at her the whole time. She ended up eating an apple in the stairwell for lunch to avoid her friends who then confirmed their disgust with her recent actions by not talking to her during Glee rehearsal. Only Rachel Berry had even made an attempt to chat with her, but the overzealous teen rambled on so much about sight-seeing in New York that Santana tuned her out after a couple of minutes.<p>

All she wanted to do at this point was drive home quickly so she would have time to pick open the lock on her parents' liquor cabinet and settle her nerves with a shot or two of her father's vodka before her mom got home. As Santana reached her white mustang, she pulled her backpack around her body to unzip the side pocket where she kept her keys. _Damn it_…she hissed, finding the pocket empty. "I know I put them in there earlier," she said aloud to herself…_didn't I_?

She set the black bag on the hood of her car, searching through each pocket, only finding a half-used pack of matches and two remaining cigarettes from the four she'd put in the inner pocket that morning. _Where's my goddamn phone_…she cursed internally. She patted the pockets of her jeans, front and back. Nothing. She looked at her watch. 4:07 PM. _Fuck_.

With her desperation rising, she flung her pack on her shoulder and turned to hurry back in the building, hoping to find them in her locker.

"Looking for these?" Quinn asked, stepping off the curb into the Latina's path, holding a set of car keys from her extended finger.

Santana instantly recognized the tiny red megaphone hanging among the Ford ignition key and several other metallic keys and reached to grab them from Quinn's hand just as the shorter blonde snatched them back out of the brunette's grasp.

"Not so fast…," Quinn smiled.

"Q, give me my keys…," Santana was not amused.

"Don't you need this too?" Quinn held up a red cell phone in her other hand.

"Crap, where did I leave them?"

"You didn't…I took them."

"You took my stuff…what the hell?"

"I sure did…during last period," Quinn revealed proudly, "You really should pay closer attention to your bag when we're in New York."

"If you don't give me my fucking keys right now, you won't make it to New York," Santana warned through clenched teeth.

"I thought that would be your attitude…so…that's why I asked for back up," Quinn continued to smile sweetly as she step over to a sedan idling nearby, opening the front passenger door.

Emma Pillsbury leaned forward and waved at the two teens, "Come on girls, we need to hurry to make it by 4:30."

Quinn motioned for Santana to take the front seat.

"Make it where…?" the brunette scowled.

"Your appointment with Dr. Shane…don't play dumb with me."

"No way!"

"Get in the car, Santana…now," Quinn emphasized, losing her patience.

"Fuck you, Quinn…give me my stuff…_now_," the fiery Latina matched the blonde's tone.

"You'll get your phone and keys as soon as your session is over…now get in the car," Quinn tucked the phone in the front pocket of her pants and reached inside the car to hand the keys to Ms. Pillsbury who unzipped her purse and dropped them in, zipping it back and tucking the purse between her and the driver's door.

"I hate you, Fabray…," Santana snarled as she brushed past the blonde to settle into the front passenger side of the car.

"I love you too, Lopez…," Quinn said victoriously, shutting the door behind the brunette and opening the back passenger door to get in.

* * *

><p>"You are such a wuss, Puckerman!" Lauren yelled into the black pickup, slamming the truck's door behind her, just as Brittany walked up, "And don't think you're going to steal my man, blondie!"<p>

"Whoa…he's just driving me home, Lauren," Brittany defended, her nose crinkling.

"Just don't try any funny stuff…got it?" she warned then stomped away.

Brittany stepped up into the passenger side of the truck, closing the door and buckling her seatbelt.

"Sorry about that," Puck apologized with a smirk, "She's kind of feisty, huh?"

"She's kind of a bitch." Brittany was too tired from the emotional turmoil of the day to hold back.

"Yeah, that too." Puck pulled away from the student lot.

"Why do you let her treat you that way?"

"Nah, she's all bark," he said flatly.

"Not from what I've seen…," Brittany looked over at him, "You deserve to be treated with more respect than that."

"Ha! That's one I never expected to hear," he laughed.

"You do…seriously," she insisted, "You've got a good heart, Noah…you need to give yourself more credit…and find someone who will appreciate your good qualities."

"Good qualities, huh? Don't let that get around town, Britt…I'll deny it."

"Well, I know you hate it, but there's more to you than just your ability to score booze and weed."

Puck glanced over at the melancholy blonde before looking back at the road ahead, "I appreciate that…but it doesn't matter anymore…I missed my chance."

"With…Quinn?"

"Yeah," he admitted sadly.

Brittany squeezed his upper arm and smiled. Her phone buzzed in the side pocket of her shorts. Pulling it out and lighting the screen, she read a text from Quinn: we got her here. fingers crossed.

"Would you mind a detour?" the blonde asked him.

"Sure…where to?"

"386 Lockwood," Brittany read from her contacts, "…here, I can map it."

"No, I got it…that's over by the train station."

Brittany titled her head, looking over at Puck with an expression of uncertainty as to how he knew that.

"It's a popular spot…_after _hours," he smiled and winked.

* * *

><p>Emma Pillsbury knocked on the door to Dr. Shane's office then stepped back behind Santana to stand beside Quinn.<p>

The door opened immediately. "Santana?" an older woman with graying brown hair smiled at the young Latina, "I'm Dr. Shane…please come in."

Santana turned slightly to look back at Quinn who gave her a supportive smile and pushed her forward.

"We'll wait for you out here, Santana," Emma told her, making knowing eye contact with the therapist.

The therapist softly closed the door behind them then moved across the office to sit in a brown leather chair which faced another brown leather chair. She sat back and crossed her legs at the knees, picking up a pen and a binder from a nearby side table and opening it to a blank sheet of paper.

"Make yourself comfortable, Santana," the doctor suggested, writing something at the top of the paper.

Instead of sitting, the young brunette slowly moved around the room, looking first at the framed degrees and licenses which were displayed prominently on the therapist's wall. Dr. Shane watched silently as Santana moved toward the fireplace which was on an adjacent wall from the leather chairs. The teen closely inspected the female faces in the two pictures on its mantle.

"That's my daughter with me," the doctor told her, "She's in college now."

Santana did not say anything.

"Do you have any siblings, Santana?"

"No."

"My daughter is an only child. We're very close," Dr. Shane continued to observe the young Latina, "Are you close with your parents?"

"My dad works a lot…he's a doctor."

"Then you and your mom must spend a lot of time together."

"Not really."

"Is there a reason for that?"

"I don't know…she's got a lot of committee meetings and stuff."

"Would you like to spend more time with her?"

"Is this whole session going to be about my mom…cause if so, why don't you have her come here and answer your questions and let me leave."

"Do you want to leave?"

"Sure do."

"What is making you uncomfortable?"

"Who says I am…stop analyzing everything I say."

"I understand that this situation may cause your defenses to be up, but why don't you sit down for a few minutes and talk with me…as an ally." The therapist calmly motioned toward the empty chair.

Santana slumped down in the chair, crossing her legs at the knees, rubbing her hands on the soft leather arms, "This is nice."

"Thank you…I like for my patients to be comfortable during our conversations."

"Am I your…_patient_?"

"If you want to be…," Dr. Shane smiled at the teen.

"Where's your couch?" she asked, looking around the rest of the room.

"That's a myth really," the doctor kindly answered, "the reality is most therapists don't use couches."

"So what do we talk about?"

"What would you like to talk about, Santana? This is your time."

Santana sat quietly for a moment before asking, "What do you know about me?"

"I know that you are seventeen…you are a student at McKinley High School…and that…you have experienced some significant struggles in your life recently."

"Significant struggles, huh?" Santana laughed, "Yeah, well…all those things are true."

"Would you care to share some of those struggles with me?"

"Are you going to report what I say to my parents?"

"Every single word that you say to me stays in this office, Santana," Dr. Shane assured her, "…though you are a minor so I will need to speak to your parents about insurance and course of treatment."

"Course of treatment? Oh wow…so you already think I'm a nutcase…that's awesome," the brunette looked down, fidgeting in her chair.

"I don't think of _any_ of my patients as 'nutcases', Santana…I think every single person goes through cycles in his or her life when struggles become overwhelming…some become debilitating…harmful even," the doctor leaned in to force eye contact with the troubled teen, "…but if there is a way we can physically treat those overwhelming thoughts…to assist you in coping with day to day…we want to do so…ok?"

Dr. Shane could see the young girl was internally processing so she sat quietly, making a few notes on the notepad in her lap.

"Do you think events happen randomly or for a reason?"

"Hmm…well, if you're asking my personal opinion…I think events happen because of a series of choices which lead a person to a particular moment in time when their path crosses with someone else whose choices led them to the same moment in time."

"So…is that randomness or fate?"

"It can seem like both, I suppose," the therapist surmised, "but then…our minds tend to work backwards, trying to place reason on events which have already occurred."

Santana took a deep, audible breath, slowly letting it out. "I was raped."

"I'm very sorry that happened to you, Santana," the doctor gave her a sympathetic look.

"You knew that already, didn't you?"

"Yes."

"I'm angry."

"I can understand that," Dr. Shane validated, "Rape is the ultimate violation."

"I'm angry because…I shouldn't have been there…in that place…that night...it was my own fault."

"The rape was not your fault, Santana."

"No, but…my _series_ of choices…that put me there were…I'm angriest at myself."

"In what way?"

"My date to prom should have been…someone different."

Santana uncrossed her knees and looked up at the doctor who smiled encouragingly.

"A _girl_…a beautiful, wonderful girl…but I was too scared."

"What scared you?"

Santana fidgeted again, crossing her knees back. "The looks…whispers...I see it all when my friend is with his boyfriend…it makes me sick to my stomach."

"The way people look at your friend?"

"I don't want to stand out like that…I just want to be…_normal_."

"And you think being gay makes you…_not_ normal?" Dr. Shane asked for clarification.

"I hate the fact that I'm gay."

"Why, Santana?"

"It's costing me…_everything_."

"Such as…?"

"My popularity…my future…my family…."

"Your future? How so?"

"Everything I've envisioned for my life…marriage, kids…I don't know, just everything."

"Well, the future is being redefined everyday for same-sex couples…marriage and kids are a viable option."

"Yeah, I know…I see things on the news…but those are in other places…not Ohio."

"True…but you could always leave Ohio…when you're old enough…or be patient and wait for change to find its way here."

"And do _what_ until then…? Hide?" the young brunette challenged, "Hiding got me raped…and sitting in this chair in front of you."

"Could you try not hiding?"

"I've tried to push myself…I told some of my friends…my _closest_ friends."

"That's a huge step…congratulations," Dr. Shane encouraged, "What reactions did you get?"

"Supportive."

"Wonderful…what do you see as your next step? Your parents?"

"I tried that actually…with my mom."

"You told your mom you're gay?"

"Not in so many words…but she's been asking lately…about my…_girlfriend_."

"What types of questions has she asked you?"

"Just about how much time we spend together…I guess she's figured out what's going on between us," Santana stated, "Last night, my mom said we had to study in the living room instead of my bedroom."

"So the message you are getting from her is that she disapproves of the time you spend with your girlfriend?"

"Alone time, yes…," she confirmed, "I'm seventeen…it's not fair."

"Are you at an…_intimate_…stage with your girlfriend."

Santana blushed and looked down. "Yes."

"My question was not intended to put you on the spot, Santana," the therapist assured her, "I only ask to help you determine if your mom's issue is with you being gay or with you being sexually active."

"She never seemed to notice _before_…," Santana trailed off.

"…Before what?" the therapist prodded.

"Brittany…my girlfriend…and I have been very _close_…for awhile now…," the teen tried to explain, "We've only been officially a couple for a few weeks…so I don't know why suddenly my mom is sticking her nose in my business."

"Moms are intuitive like that," the therapist smiled knowingly.

"Obviously."

"I want to be open and up front with you, Santana…so I will take this opportunity to tell you I've spoken with Brittany over the phone…," the older woman set her pen down on the notepad in her lap and folded her hands, "Brittany is the one who initially contacted me…to make this appointment for you."

Santana looked down at her lap, fumbling with the hem of her striped shirt. "I thought it was maybe Ms. Pillsbury," the young brunette looked back up with tears in her eyes.

"Why does that upset you?"

"…Cause…Brittany is the _last _person on this earth, I want to hurt…and I'm hurting her the most."

"Is it possible that you're hurting _you_ the most?"

"At least I deserve it…."

"Santana…these are the type of overwhelming thoughts I was referencing earlier," Dr. Shane pulled a smaller white pad out of the pocket of her open binder and scribbled several things across it, tearing off the top sheet and handing it to the young Latina, "This is a prescription for an anti-anxiety medication. This can be a trial…we'll see if this one works…if not, we'll try another one. You can take one each night before you go to bed to help minimize any side-effects. I think you will begin to feel a real difference in a week or two with the thoughts you've been having in your head."

Santana leaned forward to accept the small sheet from the therapist, reading over the information on it. "Is this what you're going to talk to my parents about?"

"Yes…you'll need their agreement first before you fill it."

"Would you please wait until after I leave on my school trip tomorrow? I'm afraid they won't let me go if they find out about…_stuff_…before I'm actually on the plane to New York," she sadly requested.

"Of course…I wouldn't want to jeopardize your trip," the doctor assured her, "Perhaps, once you are back, you would find it helpful to open up communication with your parents regarding your sexuality during a family session."

"You mean…come out to my parents _here_…in front of you?"

"Is that something you would consider?"

"I guess…but not yet, ok?"

"Whenever you feel ready, Santana…just let me know and we'll set it up," the doctor smiled at the young brunette.

* * *

><p>Quinn looked at the time on her phone. 5:18 PM. "She stayed in there the whole time…I guess that's a good sign," she said to Emma Pillsbury.<p>

"Yes, it's progress," Emma smiled encouragingly, flipping a page in the magazine she was reading.

"Thank you again, Ms. Pillsbury…for all your help…," Quinn stated, looking up as a nearby door opened and Santana stepped out into the lobby.

"I'll see you next week," Dr. Shane whispered to the young brunette as she closed the door to the office behind her.

Quinn stood and approached Santana, taking in a deep breath, "How did it go?"

"She was very nice…just like you said she'd be."

"So I'm forgiven…?"

Santana hugged the former Cheerios captain. "Not so fast…," she warned, sticking out her empty palm.

Quinn pulled Santana's phone out of her pocket and handed it to her, "…as promised."

"Thank you…_now_ you're forgiven." The Latina grinned.

"You'll need these too," Emma unzipped her purse and pulled out Santana's car keys, handing them to her.

"Thank you."

"Come on, I'll take you girls back by the school."

The three of them pushed open the door leading outside and moved towards Emma's sedan which was parked in an attached lot. Santana looked across the lot and spotted a familiar black truck at the same time two heads ducked down in the seats below. She made eye contact with Quinn, shaking her head and snickering slightly.

"Just a minute, Ms. Pillsbury…," Santana asked politely.

"Oh, sure…," the red-haired counselor agreed.

Santana made her way over to the truck's passenger side with Quinn following closely, knocking on its glass window once she reached it. The window slowly buzzed down, and the Latina beauty leaned into the truck.

"You two are _not_ subtle."

"I told you we should have parked across the street at the train station," Puck said, sitting back up.

Brittany sat up too, flattening out her shirt, "Oh hey…what are you guys doing here?"

"That's what I walked over to ask you?" Santana half-grinned.

"Us? We were just doing…homework…for…math," Brittany said, grabbing the notebook she had been writing in a few minutes earlier.

The tall blonde looked over at Puck for assistance. "Yeah, math…we were counting…," he grasped for something believable.

"…People…," Brittany tossed out.

Puck nodded, "…People…that's right…as they exited the commuter train."

"Oh, really? Sounds complicated…," Santana rolled her eyes.

"Right, your class has a presentation next week on your findings…," Quinn amused herself by playing along, "Mrs. Gregory is making you guys dress up as numbers, isn't she?"

Brittany nodded, "I'm the number 37."

"Excellent choice," Quinn grinned, "What are you, Puck…69?"

"Ok, cut the crap…you are all the worse liars _ever_," Santana told the trio.

Brittany closed her notebook and looked at Santana, "I'm sorry…I just wanted to be near you…while you were in your session."

Santana pulled open the truck's door and leaned in to hug Brittany, "That's so sweet, Britt."

The taller blonde pulled the Latina into a tight embrace, "I'm so glad you went."

"Yeah, me too," she confirmed, "I liked her…I'm going to see her again, ok."

"Good," the blonde looked at her and smiled with relief.

"Do you think we could talk tonight…if I come to your house?"

"Yeah, sure," Brittany sounded hopeful.

"Ms. Pillsbury is going to take me and Quinn by the school for our cars…I'll come over after you have dinner, ok?" Santana squeezed Brittany's hand, rubbing her thumb across its knuckles before pulling away and waving back to her as she and Quinn walked to Emma's sedan.

Brittany pulled the truck door closed and rolled up the window.

"See…what did I tell you?" Puck grinned knowingly, "That girl is totally in love with you."

* * *

><p>Brittany rinsed the last dinner plate and bent over to position it into the bottom section of the dishwasher when she heard the doorbell ring.<p>

"I got it!" she called out, drying her hands on a nearby cup towel and turning out the kitchen light as she moved toward the front door. She opened it to find Santana standing there, a large, red overnight bag slung over one shoulder and her other arm tucked behind her.

Before the brunette stepped inside, she pulled her arm around, presenting Brittany with a tiny, pink rose. "Shhh, don't tell your dad," she whispered with a grin, "I pulled it off his rose bush."

Brittany returned the romantic gesture with an excited hug, taking the petite rose and pulling the Latina inside the house. The girls passed through the living room where Brittany's parents sat in their recliners, watching television.

"Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Pierce," Santana said in a friendly fashion as they walked toward the stairs.

They both said hi and nodded.

"Oh good, you decided to stay over here tonight?" Mrs. Pierce observed Santana's suitcase, "That will make it easier when I take you up to the school in the morning."

"Yes, extra early," Brittany confirmed.

"Oh, girls…don't forget to set an alarm…give yourselves plenty of time to get ready," Mrs. Pierce gently reminded them.

"Goodnight," Brittany said to her parents, leading Santana up the steps before pushing open her bedroom door then shutting and locking it once they both were inside.

"Hi…," Santana said once Brittany turned to face her.

"Thank you…for this," Brittany responded, holding up the small, wilting flower, "I never pegged you as a romantic, Santana."

The shorter girl pulled her closer, settling both of her hands around Brittany's trim waist, "There are a few things you don't know about me."

"Am I going to get to find these things out?"

"I really hope so…," Santana looked deep into the blonde's bright blue eyes, "God, I love you so much, Britt…and I am very sorry about this morning."

Brittany nodded. "I know you are…," she confirmed her forgiveness with a solid kiss on Santana's lips.

The brunette moved her hands up behind Brittany's neck, tangling her fingers through her golden locks, deepening their kiss. Once Santana broke away for a settling breath of air, she smiled sweetly and took the tiny rose from Brittany's fingers and tucked it gingerly behind the blonde's right ear. "You are so beautiful," she told Brittany, causing her fair skin to blush lightly which only highlighted her freckles, "Britt, I…really…_really_…want to make love to you tonight."

"Are you sure?" Brittany instantly worried about their recent outcomes.

"Yes…I just kind of need to…lead…ok?"

"No problem," the taller girl assured her with a huge grin, "Do you want the lamp on or off?"

Santana looked across the room to the nightstand, surveying the soft light of the lamp, "On…_please_…so I can see you when I do this…." She pulled up on the bottom of Brittany's gray tank top and lifted it over her head, tossing it gently to the floor, before she reached up and unhooked the front of Brittany's pink bra, releasing her soft breasts. Taking a step back, Santana sat down on the edge of the bed, pulling the blonde toward her and wrapping both arms tightly around her, pressing her face into the soft, exposed skin of Brittany's abdomen.

Brittany stood there a moment as Santana breathed her in, caressing the Latina's long, raven hair, before sliding her hands gently around her head and down her jaw line, lifting Santana's chin to see fresh tears in her eyes.

"Life is going to smooth out for you, Santana…it's just going to take time."

Santana smiled and nodded then locked her dark brown eyes on Brittany's blue ones and slowly pulled down the taller girl's cotton shorts, taking her underwear with them, until they were pooled around her ankles on the floor.

"You're not wasting any time tonight, are you?" Brittany observed, stepping out of the excess fabric and kicking it to the side.

Santana didn't answer, but instead ran a teasing finger lightly across Brittany's hair line that covered her folds, trailing up over her mound, around her navel…_twice_…and over her ribs until the lightness of the Latina's touch made Brittany arch away and giggle.

"You're already wet…," Santana purred, licking her finger.

"It's been…awhile," Brittany reminded her.

"I can fix that…," the brunette assured her, going back over her recent finger trail with soft kisses, stopping to playfully nibble at Brittany's abs.

Brittany pushed Santana's long hair off her left shoulder, exposing the skin of her neck. She leaned down to kiss the crook of the brunette's neck which elicited Brittany's desired effect when Santana moaned softly and tilted her head back slightly. The blonde bent over Santana's shoulder, slowly exposing the Latina's smooth back as she kissed her way back up Santana's spine, pulling up her shirt ahead of each kiss.

The brunette lifted her arms as the fabric reached her shoulders, allowing Brittany to pull off Santana's fitted shirt and cast it aside. Brittany bent over the Latina again and ran her fingernails along Santana's back, up from her waist to where her bra was fastened. The taller girl unhooked and slid the thin straps off Santana's shoulders as she pulled her arm through one strap, letting it fall the rest of the way to the floor to pile with the other discarded clothing.

Santana stood again, meeting Brittany's lips with her own, deepening the growing passion. She then turned the blonde and pushed her down onto the bed, never breaking their kiss as their tongues danced around each other, climbing on top of her with each of her knees planted firmly on the sides of the blonde's hips. Once Santana had Brittany solidly underneath her, she began a descent of kisses from her lips down her neck, stopping at the blonde's breasts, putting both her hands over their fullness, squeezing them until Brittany was moaning.

Brittany dug her nails into Santana's shoulder blades as the brunette manipulated the soft flesh of the blonde's left breast, rubbing the pad of her thumb over its nipple then squeezing it between her fingers, while she ran her tongue around the hardening nipple of the blonde's right one. Santana teased Brittany for a moment, circling her tongue around and around then flicking before she wrapped her full lips around her nipple, sucking gently then harder which elicited a buck of the blonde's hips and a much louder moan.

"Shhh…," Santana giggled and stopped for a second to listen for movement out in the hallway.

"Easy for you to say," Brittany playfully slapped the brunette's shoulder.

Santana shook her head, tossing back over her shoulder her long dark hair that had fallen in her face, before moving her tongue's descent further down the blonde's torso while she mapped out every one of Brittany's toned muscles with a firm touch.

The electricity generated from Santana's hands moving across her body made Brittany's skin tingle, heat rising in her groin, making her wetter at her core.

Santana knew she was driving the blonde crazy with her slow assault on her senses, hearing relatively-soft sighing and gasping, but she was enjoying how Brittany's muscles tensed and relaxed with every movement she made above her. Santana liked the control she had as Brittany's hips involuntarily rocked beneath her own pelvis, internally applauding herself. Santana wanted to replace all of the previous stress she'd caused Brittany with pure pleasure and release.

The Latina beauty moved her body lower and lower until she was positioned between the blonde's thighs, taking her hands and pushing Brittany's knees up and wider. Taking a brief moment to breathe in her familiar scent, Santana ran her hands over Brittany's hips and pelvis, moving her fingers down through her mound of light-colored curls before running the back of her index finger strategically in the slit of Brittany's labia. The result was as Santana hoped when Brittany arched her hips upward into her touch and moaned deeply. The brunette then parted the blonde's folds with her fingers and dipped her tongue into Brittany's wetness, running it along the length of her vulva in one solid move.

Brittany could hardly process a complete thought at this point though she could feel Santana's hot breath on her as the brunette's tongue dipped deeper inside her, causing Brittany's eyes to roll back in her head and her breath to leave her.

"Breathe, Britt…," Santana raised her head and whispered then returned her mouth back to her oral manipulations.

The blonde forced out air from her chest only to have it catch again when Santana began to slowly suck on her clit, licking up and down then up again before sucking harder. The Latina smiled slightly when Brittany's fingers released her dark locks at the top of her head in order to clasp both hands over her own mouth, desperately trying to censor the sharp gasps and moans she was emitting.

Santana continued to suck Brittany's clit with a combination of licks, up and down, back and forth, and up and down again until the blonde cried out, "Oh god…_please_ don't stop."

With that request, Brittany felt the Latina push two fingers inside of her, slowly moving in and out, then gradually faster, keeping pace with her tongue. Brittany's hips rocked up and down matching the rhythm Santana set for them. As the brunette added a third finger, Brittany could feel the heat and tingling sensation building inside of her toward an inevitable explosion. It started with random, intense sparks where Santana was energetically sucking then skyrocketed up her spine, shattering her brain until the sparks clustered together deep in Brittany's core, spreading throughout her legs and torso, showering over her entire body, setting every nerve on fire.

Santana's movements followed Brittany until she went over the edge then she paused her fingers and tightened her grip on the blonde's waist to hold her somewhat steady as Brittany's hips and pelvis lost control under the intensity of her orgasm. Once Brittany's body slowed to a rest, Santana eased out her fingers, making sure they gently ran back across Brittany's still-pulsating clit for maximum aftershock effect before trailing her way back up the blonde's warm body. With what little energy Brittany retained, she pulled Santana into her arms for a deep kiss.

Brittany broke the kiss first, saying, "I like tasting myself on your lips."

"Mmmhmm…," Santana responded, resting her head on Brittany's broad shoulder and draping her bent leg across the blonde's body.

The two of them laid silently in a tight embrace until both girls' pulse slowed and their breathing returned to normal. Santana could feel Brittany begin gentle, circular caresses on her arm then around the side of her waist, running a lazy hand under the waistband of her knit shorts.

Santana reached down and softly grasped Brittany's hand, pulling it back up and tucking in under her arm, smelling Brittany's scent on her fingers as her hand moved near her face. She whispered toward Brittany, "Not this time, love…ok?" She kissed the blonde on her neck and inhaled her calming aura once again, settling into her and squeezing her tightly.

"Ok…," Brittany responded with complete understanding before reaching out her long arm to switch off the side lamp on the nightstand, leaving the bedroom illuminated only by outside light, and shifting slightly to pull her disheveled comforter over both of their exposed bodies.

"Britt…?"

"Hmm…?"

"You were right…," Santana said softly.

"About what…?"

"It is so much better with feelings."

Brittany's heart fluttered in her chest and she pulled Santana even closer into her body, kissing her on the top of her head. Physically spent, both teens easily drifted off to sleep.

Note: Thank you to everyone reading this story. I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, since it took a bit longer to write. I would love to hear from any of you readers, so please feel free to write a review or stop by my tumblr blog at mamatots(dot)tumblr(dot)com! The more feedback I get, the more motivated I am to write on the next chapter. ;D


	7. Chapter 7

**Her Smile Heals Me** (part 7)

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK. "Girls…Are you two up?" " Mrs. Pierce asked loudly through the closed bedroom door, "…I don't see lights on?"

The loud banging startled Brittany awake, jolting the blonde teen upright in bed. She instinctively glanced over at her nightstand in her haze of grogginess, looking for familiar green, digital numbers, but her clock was blacked out.

"Brittany? HELLO?" she heard her mom yell from the other side of the door.

She rubbed at her eye with one hand while reaching in the dark for her phone on the small bedside table. Not finding it, she patted around the bed until her hand landed on the warm body sprawled next to her.

As Brittany's senses slowly returned to her in the early-morning hour, she remembered Santana was in bed with her and they were to be somewhere today…_somewhere important_. "Oh crap…," Brittany finally recalled, "Tan, wake up!"

Soft groaning was the only response from the sleeping Latina.

"Santana," the blonde shook her bed partner, "Get up and get dressed…hurry!"

"What…?" the brunette finally stirred, unaware of any urgency.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK. "BRITTANY SUSAN," her mother yelled louder.

Brittany jumped out of bed. "We're up, Mom!" Brittany assured her through the door, as she flipped on the bedroom light and searched for her shorts from the night before, hoping to find her phone.

"Get moving, girls! We have to leave in the next ten minutes," Mrs. Pierce told her, "Your dad is already putting stuff in the car so Santana needs to bring her bag down as soon as possible."

Santana turned over on her back, shielding her eyes from the harshness of the overhead light. She looked across the room, seeing the naked form of her girlfriend moving around the foot of the bed, bent over, searching for something on the floor.

"What are you doing…?" Santana mumbled.

"Looking for my phone…do you have yours?" the blonde asked her, desperately needing to verify the time. She looked up, realizing the brunette had drifted back asleep. Brittany picked up a throw pillow from the floor and tossed it at her, "Santana, wake up…_please_."

Santana sat straight up. "What's going on?"

"The alarm didn't go off…we're late…Mr. Shue is going to kill us!"

The Latina threw off the blanket that was covering her, moving swiftly toward her suitcase and pulling out her cell phone from the side pocket. "6:10…OH FUCK!"

"My mom's already in the car…please move quicker." Brittany grabbed panties and a bra from the top drawer of her dresser and ran into the bathroom, turning on the light and pushing the door closed while Santana unzipped the top of her bag, removing underwear, a pair of jeans and a gray t-shirt.

Santana quickly pulled off her clothes from the night before and stepped into fresh underwear then shoved her long, thin legs into the baggy, denim pants before searching the floor for her bra, hearing water start running from inside the bathroom. She knocked on the door and said, "Britt…I need to pee!"

"Then come in and pee…," the taller girl answered her.

Santana opened the door, finding Brittany washing her face with a soapy washcloth.

"Are you going to shower?" the Latina asked her.

"There's no time…," she responded, brushing her long hair and pulling it up into a pony-tail. Quickly putting toothpaste on her toothbrush, she turned around to find Santana standing behind her, just smiling.

"What…?" she asked, suddenly realizing she was completely naked.

"I was just…_remembering_…," the dark-haired girl said sweetly.

Brittany removed her toothbrush from her mouth and leaned to kiss Santana on the lips, leaving an outline of blue foam, "I love you…now hurry and pee please."

Santana laughed out loud, "Wow…so romantic!"

Brittany spit out the excess foam from her mouth, "Santana!"

"Ok, ok…I'm hurrying."

* * *

><p>"Good morning…," Rachel Berry beamed as Quinn walked up to the yellow school bus.<p>

"Is it…?" the former head Cheerio grumbled.

"Aren't you excited? By lunchtime, we'll be in THE greatest city in the whole world…," Rachel could barely contain her enthusiasm, wrapping her short arm around Quinn's waist and attempting to sway and sing, "_Start spreading the_ _news…we're leaving today…._"

"Rachel…PLEASE…dial it back a few notches…you're going to have a stroke before we even board the plane," Kurt interrupted her.

"Or we'll _strangle_ you…," Tina warned, yawning.

The petite brunette frowned and moved over toward Finn who was standing in a small circle of sleepy Glee members.

The phone in Quinn's shoulder bag started ringing. She pulled it out and looked at the incoming caller…**SANTANA (HOME)**…before answering it, saying, "Hey…what are you doing at your house? You should be here already!"

"Excuse me…?" an older voice asked.

"Hello…?" Quinn's face contorted, "Mrs. Lopez?"

"Quinn…where is Santana? She's not answering her cell?"

"Oh…um…," the young blonde hesitated, stretching her neck to check for any sign of the Latina's arrival in the parking lot.

"Isn't she with you?" Santana's mother questioned, "She said she was staying at your house last night."

"She did? I mean…yes, she did stay with me," Quinn lied, quickly trying to figure out the cover story, "We're at the school now…we're about to leave for the airport."

"Well, let me talk to her a moment."

_Holy fuck_…Quinn's mind was racing…_where are they_? She assumed Santana was with Brittany, but Brittany was not at the school either. She made eye-contact with Puck, covering the phone and mouthing, "Where's Santana…?"

Puck panned the outer parking lot then shrugged in Quinn's direction.

"Quinn…? I want to speak to my daughter…now," Mrs. Lopez repeated authoritatively.

"She's not here at the moment," Quinn was getting flustered.

"She's not with Brittany, is she?"

"She went inside the building to use the restroom," Quinn made up then added, "She must have left her phone in her bag."

"Oh…well, why didn't you say that to begin with? Just ask her to call me before the bus leaves."

"Sure, no problem" Quinn sighed with relief. Once the former cheerleader captain ended her call with Santana's mother, she scrolled her contacts and dialed **SANTANA (CELL)**. It rang once then went to voice mail. Quinn looked at the time. 6:33…_Shit_.

Mr. Shuester surveyed the gathered group of teens, noting two were missing, then said loudly, "OK, let's go ahead and load up."

Quinn's phone rang again…**BRITTANY PIERCE**…_thank god_. "Britt?" she clarified this time.

"We're late…," Brittany announced on the other end.

"Yeah, no kidding…we're boarding the bus now…is Santana with you?"

"Yes."

"She needs to call her mom…like, right now…she called me, looking for her."

"Ok…tell Mr. Shue we'll be there in a few minutes."

"What happened?"

"The alarm didn't go off…please don't let him leave us!"

"He won't…just hurry!"

Will Shuester stepped toward Quinn, hearing the last bit of conversation on her end. "Are they at least in the car?"

Quinn gave the Glee Club director her sweetest smile, "Of course…they're right around the corner."

* * *

><p>"The Captain has turned off the seatbelt sign, so you can now move about the plane," a young male flight attendant announced over the speaker.<p>

Brittany unlatched her lap belt and said, "I'm going to the restroom…will you ask for some juice if they come by with the cart?"

"Sure," Santana told her, moving her legs to the side so the tall blonde could push past her and step into the aisle.

Quinn closed the book she was reading and moved from her window seat to Brittany's vacated middle seat, sitting next to Santana. "Sooo…why exactly were you staying at _my_ house last night?"

Santana turned toward the shorter blonde but did not answer.

"It's ok, San…you can 'stay at my house' anytime…just give me a heads up, ok?"

"What did my mom say to you?" Santana sounded worried.

"She was just trying to track you down when you didn't answer your phone."

"Thanks for covering for me."

"What's going on with her?"

"She doesn't want me staying at Brittany's house overnight," Santana leaned toward Quinn and whispered.

"Does Britt know that?"

"No…and I don't want her to find out…it'll just upset and worry her."

"Ok…," Quinn agreed, "But…does _somebody_ need to worry about what's going on over at your house?"

"I'm fine," the brunette looked back down at her magazine.

"Santana…?"

She shifted in her seat to look directly at Quinn. "_Please_ don't say anything to Brittany…but my mom won't allow me to see her anymore."

"Like…_at all_?" Quinn tried to clarify.

"After this trip…never."

"So clearly she knows about you two."

"She's so pissed she's hardly speaking to me…she said if she catches us together, I'll lose my car, my computer…_everything_."

"Then I guess you and I will be spending a lot of time together this summer," Quinn winked at her.

Santana shook her head in defeat. "I'm just so tired of all the lies," the Latina confessed sadly, "…and the shame."

"Santana, you know that I understand what it's like to get that sort of response from a parent…but this is your mom's problem…not yours, ok?"

"According to her…my relationship with Brittany is an 'abomination against God'."

"Hey, look at me…you need to hear this from someone…you haven't done _anything_ wrong," Quinn linked her arm through the Latina's which was resting on the divider between their seats, "We should all be fortunate enough to have something like you and Britt have together."

Santana leaned her head over on Quinn's shoulder, "I really appreciate the support, Q."

* * *

><p>Will Shuester entered the hotel lobby and took a deep, settling breath when he saw the buzz of activity from the dozens of excited teenagers and the spattering of adults who appeared to be shepherding groups of them to various parts of the hotel. He unconsciously ran a hand through his thick, wavy hair then flattened out his buttoned, brown-tweed vest and tightened his maroon tie, stepping back outside to check on his motley crew of thirteen who were still helping each other out of the shuttle van and loading luggage onto a gold, metal cart.<p>

"Ok, guys…I'm going to check us in. Whenever you get everything off the van then please find a spot in the lobby and wait for me," he instructed, "Please stay together!"

The group nodded and grabbed their suitcases to follow him back inside the hotel, becoming increasingly wide-eyed as they watched swarms of spirited show choir members flitting around them in the lobby.

"Oh wow…no turning back now, I guess," Kurt stated with a look of dread across his cherub face.

"There are just…so many of them…," Mercedes observed, her mouth opened in awe.

"Why do they all look like they're in college…?" Tina asked in dismay.

"Or on steroids…," Santana added sarcastically.

"Ok, stop with all this negativity, you guys…," Rachel turned to face her fellow New Directions members, "We **earned** the right to be here just as much as they did. We're in New York City! We made it to _Nationals_…let's find some enthusiasm!"

"Rachel's right," Finn said supportively, putting his arm around his Glee Club co-captain, "Let's enjoy the experience…whatever the outcome ends up being."

The petite brunette smiled up at him in appreciation as the rest of the group nodded and smiled at each other.

"We need to find a restroom…like now," Brittany announced.

"Yeah, ok…you girls go first, we'll watch the bags," Puck agreed, taking her bag from her.

The guys found a nearby couch that was empty and sat down to chill. It wasn't long before Mr. Shuester returned with their room information.

"We're in rooms 721 and 723," Will told them, shuffling two long, cream-colored envelopes in his hands.

"Wait, we're _all _supposed to cram into just two rooms?" Puck questioned.

"I know it'll be a tight squeeze…but it's all we're budgeted for," he confirmed with an awkward smile, "So we'll do guys in one room…girls in the other."

"Seriously…? Mr. Shue, that's like…six of us," Finn asked, looking around at his male classmates to confirm his math on his fingers, "Where are we all going to sleep?"

"Seven…I'm staying with you guys," Will adjusted, "…but don't worry about places to sleep, because the rooms have pull-out couches, and the hotel is putting an extra roll-away bed in both rooms."

"That seems fair, Mr. Shue," Sam added with a smile, feeling grateful just to be able to participate in their New York trip.

"That's the spirit…thanks, Sam!" Will tried to amp up his students' excitement.

"Um, Mr. Shue…," Artie raised his hand cautiously, "Does that mean…Kurt will be staying in our room?"

All the guys looked over at Kurt.

"He's one of the guys, is he not…?" Will had already worked this out in his own mind, "Besides, even if that's what you'd prefer, Kurt…that would end up being more over in the girls' room."

"Well…maybe Santana should be in the guys' room," Artie added, still privately tortured with jealousy over any time the Latina spent with Brittany.

"Hey! Not cool, dude…," Puck chided him with a scowl, "These are our friends…and you're being a douche."

"Ok, enough! We are all mature members of this club...," Will reminded them, "…we are splitting up guys in one room and girls in the other…end of discussion." Will turned to find the girls walking up behind them.

"What's going on?" Tina asked, putting her arms lovingly around Mike Chang.

Sensing tension, Quinn prodded, "Is there a problem with the rooms?"

"Not at all…grab the bags and follow me…girls, you'll be in room 723," Will handed Rachel the envelope with that key card.

Finn and Sam pushed the luggage cart ahead of the group as they all moved toward the wall of elevators.

Puck shifted the two shoulder bags he had slung over his broad shoulders and looked down at Artie who wheeled his chair beside him, restating under his breath, "So not cool."

"Sorry…," Artie responded meekly.

* * *

><p>Brittany spread out the beige blanket she'd brought with her from the hotel, kneeling down to flatten it out on the plush grass below, before glancing back toward the paved path, looking for Santana. She noticed so many types of people around her, all enjoying the sunny day in Central Park. The giant park was stirring with midday activity, bike riders, joggers, lovers walking hand in hand, friends playing frisbee, people lying on the grass, reading books or typing on laptops.<p>

The Glee Club had toured Manhattan together the afternoon before, all the way from Washington Park up to Lincoln Center. Today though, everyone decided to split off and do their own things, trying to enjoy the city before competition started on Saturday.

When Santana asked her what she wanted to do, Brittany knew immediately that she wanted to have a picnic in the infamous park. The tall blonde removed her lime green jacket, tossing it to the side, and pulled off each of her sneakers, removing her socks too, then stretched out her long legs in front of her, crossing them at the ankles. She leaned back behind her on her outstretched arms and turned her face up toward the bright, blue sky above.

"Ok, my love…lunch is served," Santana announced, coming up behind Brittany and kneeling down next to her, "Two of the finest kosher hot dogs that can be bought from a cart."

The blonde's face lit up, "They look delicious!"

"They better be at $7 each," the brunette grimaced.

"We're paying for the experience, Santana," Brittany took her hot dog and lifted it to her nose, "Just smell it…it smells like New York City."

"New York smells like a hot dog to you?"

"It smells like a carnival," Brittany laughed, "Just look around…it's like being at the county fair…every single day."

Santana looked around them, seeing street vendors set up on the pavement next to the food carts. They were selling jewelry, and t-shirts, and artwork, and anything else you could possibly want to buy. There was even a clown tying balloon animals for spectators who were congregated near a large fountain, listening to a man who was playing steel drums.

"You're right, Britt…it is like the fair." The Latina smiled broadly, looking back over at Brittany and feeling happy and carefree for the first time in a very long time. She removed her sandals, setting them over onto the green grass, then sat cross-legged, facing Brittany, and took a bite which left a smear of yellow in the corner of her mouth.

Brittany popped the metal tab on her can of Dr. Brown's Black Cherry soda, pointing out with a smile, "You've got a little mustard on your lip."

Santana wiped at her mouth with a white, paper napkin, "Gone?"

Brittany leaned over and licked at the yellow spot, leaving a kiss behind before straightening back up.

"Brittany…." Santana quickly looked around them with wide eyes.

"What…?" the blonde asked innocently.

"We're in public," the Latina reminded her.

Brittany craned her neck to look to her side and back behind her, seeing the same people she saw previously, still typing on their laptops or reading their books or napping in the sunlight. "Santana, relax…nobody is paying us any attention," she finished the last bite of her hot dog as she continued to gaze around the park. "Look over there, by that tree…what do you see?"

Santana wiped her hands and took a sip of Brittany's soda, turning her head to follow Brittany's gaze. She saw a handsome brunette in his early 30s who was leaned back against the broad trunk of an oak tree, reading a book, as a younger guy with a backward-turned ball cap leaned casually against his chest, typing on his iPad.

"They're just enjoying the day…like everyone else in the park."

Santana took a deep breath. She wished so much that she could push those thoughts from her mind so that her first reaction was not who might be looking or what anyone watching might be thinking. She looked around the park again, this time with fresh eyes, seeing two girls cuddling on a nearby bench, and two other young guys lying together on a plaid blanket. She reminded herself that she was in one of the largest cities in the world, one that had a huge gay population, and that seeing two young girls sharing hot dogs and kissing in Central Park was probably the least offensive thing most New Yorkers would see all day.

"You're right," she said as she leaned forward and kissed Brittany firmly on the lips, plunging her body into normalcy, hoping her thoughts would follow.

Brittany smiled, her blue eyes sparkling in the bright sunlight, "I love you." The tall blonde pulled Santana into a tight embrace.

The Latina pulled back to announce, "You know…we should move here after graduation…together."

"Really…? You'd want to live here?"

"Yeah…wouldn't you?"

"Definitely…I would really like to dance on stage."

"You totally should, Britt…you're amazing!" Santana encouraged her, "I wonder if I could get into college here…or maybe…I could just try out for something like…I don't know, like…off-Broadway or off-off-Broadway."

"Rachel told me Rent's opening again…at an off-Broadway theater…it would be so cool if you got a chance to try out for something like that," Brittany's excitement was growing, "I've always thought you'd make the most awesome Mimi!"

"Aww, thanks…I didn't know you knew so much about Rent."

"Are you kidding? I love that show…the message is so powerful." Brittany looked into Santana's dark eyes and confessed cautiously, "The songs mean a lot to me actually…especially No Day But Today…I kept playing that one over and over after what happened on the bridge Tuesday night."

Santana diverted her eyes. "I hate that you were there that night…I'm really sorry."

"Hey, don't be…I'm _glad_ I was there, Santana," the tall blonde assured her, "I don't even want to think about what might have happened if I wasn't there."

The young Latina reflected quietly for a moment then smiled at her. "Forget Regret, right?"

"That's right! There's only us…There's only _this_," Brittany pulled Santana toward her until she had the brunette positioned with her head turned upward in her lap, "Just feel the sun on your face and let your mind go blank." Brittany caressed Santana's forehead and down the side of her face with the back of her soft hand.

The two of them rested silently on the blanket, basking in the bright sunlight, for several minutes before Santana spontaneously opened up to Brittany, saying softly, "I just shut my mind off that night…when he was on top of me…."

Brittany looked down at Santana. Unsure as to what to say in response, she sat quietly, continuing to caress the Latina's raven hair.

"…I just mentally went to the safest place I could think of…it was one summer in your backyard…when your mom let us make that giant tent out of sheets…do you remember that?" Santana looked up into the blonde's caring blue eyes.

Brittany nodded, thinking back in time, "We had all those pillows and blankets inside of it."

"But that night, you wanted it to be lit up…like the fireflies out in the woods, you said…so you asked your dad to string christmas lights all around it…inside even," Santana laughed, losing herself in the memory.

"It ended up looking like a big circus tent," Brittany laughed too.

"Yeah, but you loved it!"

"I remember being sad when it rained a few days later, and we had to take it down."

"It was magical for those couple of nights though…sleeping outside…next to you," Santana said softly.

"Yeah," Brittany agreed sweetly.

The two fell silent again for a moment, and Brittany watched as Santana closed her eyes.

"That's what made me fall in love with you," the brunette revealed.

"Really…? Way back then?" Brittany sounded pleasantly surprised, "We were what…? 13?"

Santana opened her eyes again, looking up into Brittany's eyes, "I guess I didn't really understand what it was at that point, but I'll never forget how your eyes sparkled those nights…under all those lights."

Brittany smiled broadly at her.

"That's what I thought of…_during_…," the Latina trailed off, tears escaping her brown eyes.

Finally hearing Santana's thoughts from that night ripped at Brittany's heart. "I would have attacked him with my own hands to protect you that night," she said harshly.

Santana sat up and wrapped her arms tightly around Brittany, "You did protect me, Britt…thinking of _you _is the only way I made it through."

* * *

><p>Kurt was seated at a table in The Lima Bean coffee shop Monday after school, flipping through a special edition magazine with pictures of the royal wedding between Prince William and Kate Middleton.<p>

"Grande Nonfat Mocha for you, my royal Queen," Blaine said with his best attempt at a British accent, sitting down in the chair across the table from Kurt.

"Thank you," Kurt looked up for a second to take the paper cup from Blaine, "The detail on Kate's wedding gown is spectacular…have you seen these new photos?"

"I agree…now continue with what happened at Nationals," Blaine prodded.

"Oh my god…you should have seen it," Kurt closed the magazine to continue his full account of the tragic events that took place during Saturday's competition in New York.

Kurt had already given Blaine the short version over the phone the night before when he called him to tell him they were all back safely. The Glee Club's hopes at a Nationals win had been dashed in a nanosecond. Before their first song was even completed, Finn, caught in a moment of intense feelings, pulled Rachel into a kiss…in front of everyone in the audience. _Talk about creating one hell of an awkward moment_, Kurt thought back to New Directions' three minutes of almost-fame…_that even trumps my Prom Queen announcement_.

"We all look at the top ten list for showcase…and we all just went _numb_," he described to Blaine, "…And Jesse just kept going on and on about how Rachel and Finn's kiss is what cost us Nationals…"

Blaine interrupted him, "While I understand passion…I do think that was unprofessional…but sorry, keep going…."

"Ok, but then…we get back to the hotel…and Santana _**loses it**_…she was livid, screaming at Rachel and Finn in Spanish," Kurt was amused in his account of the scene, "seriously, Blaine…it took three people to hold her back from strangling Rachel."

Blaine laughed, "You don't really think she would have physically harmed Rachel…do you?"

"YES! Without a doubt…," Kurt assured him, "Even Brittany knew to keep her distance until Santana calmed down."

"I definitely want her on my side then if we ever get in a street fight."

"There was so much tension that the plane ride home was complete silence…nobody said a word…we all just sat there with our faces buried in our complimentary copies of SkyMall."

"Wait…I don't get it…you don't seem that sad at all…?"

Kurt took a sip of his mocha, pondering his feelings on New Directions' loss at Nationals, "Well…it was still amazing…I flew on a plane for the first time in my life…I had breakfast at Tiffany's…sang on a Broadway stage…."

"I love you," Blaine smiled sweetly at him.

Kurt paused at Blaine's spontaneous sentiment, smiling back at him, "I love you too."

* * *

><p>Santana set her chemistry book inside her locker then removed her history book and slid it down into her backpack Tuesday morning. She took a moment to do a face check in the small mirror that was attached to the inside of her locker door, smiling when she spotted the souvenir Rent magnet she placed there the previous morning. Her smile broadened as she thought about the special meaning behind it and the fact Brittany had one just like it on the inside of her locker.<p>

"Hey, guess what…?" Brittany said excitedly as she walked up and turned the dial on her lock until she was able to pop open her locker door.

The clang of the metal door snapped Santana out of her reminiscing, "Ok…what?"

"On the way to school this morning, my mom reminded me that this weekend is their 20th wedding anniversary."

"That's cool."

"That's not the cool part…," Brittany beamed, pulling out her history book for second period, "…the cool part is…they're flying to Chicago for the weekend to celebrate."

"Seriously…?" Santana's eyes lit up and her lips curled mischievously upward.

"Yep…_and_…it gets better…because my sister has an end-of-the-year slumber party Saturday night," she told her, "So that leaves…you…me…and an empty house."

Santana's excitement grew just from seeing how elated Brittany was, internally though her stomach instantly knotted with what cover story would be believable enough that her mom wouldn't ask too many questions.

"Awesome," she hid her anxiety behind a toothy grin.

"We could have like an actual date night," the tall blonde suggested, shutting the door to her locker, "We've never done that…like ever."

"We've never been on a date…?"

"Not you and me…together…alone."

"Hmm…I guess we haven't," Santana thought back, "Well…we will change that this weekend."

Brittany practically jumped up and down with joy, "I've got to run to the restroom before class…let's talk more about it later, ok?"

Santana smiled at Brittany as she ran up the hallway. The Latina turned back to her locker, running her index finger over the black and white magnet as she tried to calm her thoughts with her new mantra…_It's only us_. _It's only this_.

"Santana…," Rachel Berry walked up behind the taller brunette just as she closed her locker door and turned around, "…oh god, please don't hit me." Rachel instinctively closed her eyes and drew both hands up to block her prominent nose.

"Open your eyes, Berry!" Santana told her, brushing past the diminutive teen to walk to her class.

Rachel opened to find Santana already several feet away. She quickened her pace to fall in step with the long-legged Latina, "I wanted to assure you that I hold no ill-feelings toward you for attempting to kill me in New York."

"Oh good…I'll finally sleep tonight," Santana rolled her eyes.

"I'm glad we could clear the air then," Rachel shook her head in agreement, "I was just starting to feel like maybe we were…_friends_…maybe?"

Santana stopped at her classroom door and turned toward the shorter brunette, "We are…I guess."

"Oh…ok, great," Rachel sounded relieved.

"Actually, Rachel…you might be able to help me," Santana pondered aloud.

"Me? Sure…whatever I can do, Santana."

The bell to start second period rang out. "I'll call you tonight, ok?" she told Rachel before walking into her history class.

"Um, yeah…I'll be at home," Rachel hollered after her, "Just call me!" The tiny Glee Club co-captain tried to step out of the doorway as two larger students bumped her, pushing past. "Sorry…I'm moving," she told them as they looked down at her then she added proudly, "I was just talking to my friend!"

* * *

><p>Santana sat cross-legged on the floor in front of the coffee table in her living room, typing on the laptop in front of her. She took a bite of her PB&amp;J sandwich then washed it down with a sip of milk when the door bell rang. Setting the glass down on the square coaster, the Latina stood up and walked toward the door. She raised up on her toes to look out the peephole, seeing a familiar tall blonde.<p>

"Britt…what are you doing here?" Santana asked as soon as she opened the wooden door.

"Hi to you too," Brittany laughed in slight confusion.

"I'm sorry…hi," the brunette smiled slightly, craning her neck to see out to the driveway. Seeing only her Mustang, she asked, "How did you get here?"

"I told you my mom was dropping me off while she goes to the mall to pick up her dress," Brittany said.

"You told me…?" Santana tried to clarify.

"I texted you like thirty minutes ago…didn't you get it?"

Santana reached into the pocket of her black jeans, pulling out her cell phone and seeing an incoming text from Brittany. "Oh…I accidently had it on silent…sorry."

"No problem…are you studying yet for the history final?" the tall blonde said as she started to move inside the house.

"No, I was working on something for calculus," Santana stepped in front of the door's opening, blocking her.

"Santana…?"

"It's just that my mom will be home in an hour."

"So?" Brittany tried pushing past her.

"Let me just grab my keys and let's go to your house, ok?"

"Santana…why are you acting so weird?"

The young Latina paused, reminding herself to calm down or Brittany would want details of everything that's been going on with her mom.

"Sorry…I just thought we'd be more comfortable over at your house," she lied.

"It's my dad's poker night…remember?"

"Oh, right…," Santana's stomach knotted as she stepped aside to let Brittany enter the house. She looked down at her watch…_forty-seven minutes to convince Britt to let me drive her home_, Santana took a deep breath…_ok, I can do this_.

Santana followed Brittany into the living room as she sat down on the couch, "Is this your dinner?"

"Probably," the Latina predicted.

"Santana…you need to eat better…when's the last time a vegetable has passed through these lips…?" Brittany pulled Santana backwards into her lap, kissing the side of her mouth.

"I had a salad while we were in New York," Santana recalled victoriously, "Lettuce counts as a vegetable, doesn't it?"

"It does if you're a rabbit…or a turtle…," Brittany squeezed her playfully, "Besides…that was six days ago!"

Santana couldn't help but giggle as Brittany tickled her, her stress lifting for the moment, pushing thoughts of her mom to the back of her mind. "So what do you want to do on our date, Miss Pierce?"

"Hmm…I've been thinking about that," Brittany paused a moment to think, "…how about Chinese takeout and a DVD?"

Santana turned herself around on the couch, repositioning herself to face Brittany, straddling the tall blonde's lap. She leaned in and kissed Brittany then pulled back, saying, "We don't have to stay in, Britt…the whole point of a date is going out, right? What about Breadstix and a movie?"

Brittany smiled, appreciating Santana's recent efforts, "That sounds fun…but another weekend, ok? I really was looking forward to having alone time with you."

"Alone time, huh?" Santana said in a low guttural tone, leaning forward to whisper in Brittany's ear, "Would you like a repeat of last time?" She followed her question with a slow trail of kisses down Brittany's long neck, circling around her throat, then trailing back up the other side of her neck until she reached the sensitive spot right below her earlobe, sucking gently until she heard a soft moan escape the blonde's mouth.

Brittany opened her eyes and looked into Santana's brown eyes, smiling up at her, "Actually…I was hoping for a chance to show _you_ how much I enjoyed it."

Santana's face turned serious, and she straightened her back to sit up.

"Santana…," Brittany knew instantly she had hit a wall, "Don't shut down on me again…I thought we…nevermind."

The brunette internally chastised herself. "Thought what, Britt…?"

"I thought you had reached a point…where you could trust me."

"I do trust you, Britt…it's not a trust issue, I promise."

"Then what is it…please help me understand…cause I just…," Brittany's eyes glossed over with tears, "…I just don't know what to do anymore…and I feel like you're never going to let me…touch you…ever again."

"Stop, please…it's not you," Santana assured her, "It's me…I mean, it's him…I mean, it's what he did to me."

"But I'm not him…I'm not even a guy."

"I know that, Brittany," tears escaped from Santana's eyes too, "In my head, I know that…but it's not really about being a girl versus being a guy."

"I'll be gentle…I promise."

"I know." Santana started to feel her anxiety rising again, her breaths becoming more shallow.

Brittany saw the distress the Latina was experiencing, "Ok…I'm sorry…we don't have to talk about it anymore."

Santana swallowed hard, trying to slow her breathing, thinking of the prescription in her backpack that she'd started taking, "Don't be sorry…_I love you_…I want to be able to talk to you about all of this…I want you to know what he did to me, Britt…I want you to know so you understand."

Brittany sat still, her hands gently resting on Santana's hips, internally hoping that if she didn't make a sound, if she didn't even take a noticeable breath, that maybe this would be the moment she'd waited weeks for…that this would finally be the turning point for the two of them.

"He couldn't…," Santana stopped, her mind spinning from memories of the rape, unsure of exactly how to word the details of what happened, "He couldn't…."

Brittany couldn't bare seeing her love in such distress, but everything in her wanted to know what happened that night. "He couldn't…what, Santana?" she prodded, "Just say it."

"He used his fist," she choked out.

Brittany's eyes went wide in horror. That was the furthest thing from what she had ever envisioned happened that night. Santana broke into a sob as the release of finally giving voice to the most intimate details of her attack washed over her. Brittany pulled her into a tight embrace and cried with her.

"I love you, sweetheart," was all the blonde knew to say to her.

Santana wrapped her arms tighter around Brittany's neck, "It hurt so bad."

"I understand," Brittany assured her, rubbing gentle circles on Santana's back.

The two of them held each other as reality around them ceased. Their connection was unexpectedly broken when the front door slammed shut and a loud, accented voice yelled, "What the hell is going on here?"

Santana pulled away from Brittany so quickly she fell backwards onto the floor below, landing hard on her tailbone and knocking over the half-empty glass of milk which was still on the coffee table.

"Daddy," Santana acknowledged, standing up as fast as she could.

Brittany grabbed at the laptop to save it from the path of white liquid moving in its direction.

"Get a towel from the kitchen and clean your mess up, Santana," Dr. Lopez instructed, looking over at Brittany.

"Yes sir," the Latina moved swiftly toward the kitchen, returning a few seconds later with several paper towels. She kneeled down at the cherry-colored table and began wiping at the spilled milk.

"Do you need a ride home, Brittany?" Santana's father asked her.

"My mom is supposed to pick me up in a little while."

"I think you should probably leave now…get your things and I'll drive you."

"Daddy…," Santana stood again, balling up the soiled towels.

"This is not a discussion, Santana," he told her, "You need to wait in your room until your mother gets home."

"Brittany," Santana moved toward her.

The front door opened and shut as Santana's mother walked into the house. She paused at the gathered group in the living room. "Santana, what is _she_ doing here?" Mrs. Lopez demanded to know.

"What exactly is it that I've done wrong?" Brittany defended herself, confused as to all the tension in the room.

"Don't try that innocent routine of yours on us," Mrs. Lopez scolded.

"Don't talk to Brittany like that," Santana spoke up, "She's right…she hasn't done anything wrong…and…neither have I."

"The things you two have been doing together are…disgusting," the older Latina condemned them.

"Disgusting…?" Brittany was offended, "What we have together is special."

"Britt, please…," Santana's face flushed as she looked over at her father.

"What are all of you even talking about?" Dr. Lopez demanded to know.

"They are sleeping together," Mrs. Lopez revealed.

"Mom!"

"I love your daughter," Brittany stepped closer to Santana, linking her arm through hers, "There's nothing disgusting about that."

"You love her?" Dr. Lopez wanted clarification.

"Yes," Brittany confirmed.

"And you love her…?" he looked at Santana.

"Yes…," Santana answered cautiously.

"Wonderful…," he said, calmly walking over to the coffee table, closing Santana's math book, sliding it down into the backpack he picked up off the floor. He then calmly picked up the green, spiral notebook off the coffee table and slid it down into the backpack then he picked up a small calculator, putting it in and zipping the bag closed.

Santana and Brittany watched him in confused silence then looked over at Santana's mother. Mrs. Lopez crossed her arms and shifted her stance.

Dr. Lopez handed the backpack to Brittany, "…then she can go with you when I tell you to get the hell out of my house."

Brittany looked at Santana, stunned, not knowing what to do.

"Was my English unclear?" he asked sarcastically, walking over to the front door and opening it, "Leave this house…now."

The two teens moved silently toward the door.

"Keys…," Dr. Lopez stuck out his large palm.

Santana unzipped the side pocket of her backpack, pulled out her car keys, and set them in his hand.

"You should be ashamed of what you're doing to your family," Santana's mother told her as they passed through the doorway.

"You know what…," Brittany turned back around, "You two are the ones who should be ashamed…for turning your back on your own child."

Santana pulled Brittany by the arm. The door closed hard behind them as the girls stepped off the porch and into the driveway.

"Let me call my mom," Brittany said, pausing briefly. The tall blonde had rarely felt this much anger, making her unsure of what to do next.

"Just keep walking…please."

"Santana…where are we walking?"

Santana stopped and turned around to face her, "Brittany…have you told your parents about us?"

"No," Brittany looked down.

"Exactly…so if they react the same way and throw you out…then what would we do?"

"I'm so sorry, honey."

Santana paused, pulling out her phone and appreciating the fact her parents forgot to ask for it, "I think I know just who to call."

Author's note: Ok, I know this chapter took a long time to complete and post. Sorry about that! Life got in the way the last couple of weeks. Please continue to let me know what you think as you read this part. I really appreciate your feedback. Thanks, KB


	8. Chapter 8

**Her Smile Heals Me** (part 8)

Santana returned from the restroom to find Brittany sitting quietly at a round table, staring out a plate-glass window. After Santana's father threw them out, the girls walked to a frozen yogurt shop on a nearby main street to regroup. Even though Brittany tried to convince her to just go home with her, Santana felt strongly that going to Brittany's house would just cause more problems.

"What did your mom say?" Santana asked, sitting across the table in a green, metal chair.

Brittany's silent thoughts were interrupted. She looked over at Santana with moisture in her eyes, "What?"

Santana gave her a sad half-smile, "Is your mom picking you up?"

"Yeah," Brittany sniffed slightly, shaking off her emotional moment to be strong for Santana, "I just told her we went to get yogurt. She's almost here."

Santana scooted her chair closer to Brittany and reached under the small table to put a reassuring hand on the blonde's thigh, rubbing it gently.

"I'll be ok, Britt," the brunette told her softly.

"Are you sure," Brittany sounded unconvinced, "You don't even have any clothes or…anything."

"I'll sneak back in tomorrow."

"How…? Your dad took your keys."

"The same way I always sneak out," the Latina said with a proud smirk.

A car pulled into a parking space in front of the small shop, its headlights shining through the window. "There's my mom," Brittany announced, "Promise me you'll call me tonight before you go to sleep?"

"Definitely," Santana smiled upward as Brittany stood and put her backpack over her left shoulder, squeezing her right hand tightly before the tall blonde reluctantly pulled away, "And stop worrying, Britt."

Brittany moved back toward Santana, running a quick caress down the back of her love's raven hair, giving her a weak attempt at a smile before pushing open the door and running out to the passenger's side of her mom's van.

Santana watched the blue Sienna back out of the parking lot and drive away. She took a deep breath and wiped at a sudden tear, the full impact of her banishment washing over her.

"Are you sure you don't want any yogurt, Miss?" the elderly Asian man behind the counter asked her.

"Um…no, thanks," she turned to answer him.

"I can give you a cup for some water," he said sweetly.

"That would be great," Santana stood to approach the counter, taking the clear, plastic cup from him, "Thank you."

She pushed the silver handle to fill her cup with some crushed ice then another handle to add some water. She heard the little bell at the top of the entry door ring out behind her as the door opened again.

"Hello," the elderly owner said, "Can I help you?"

"No, I'm just here to pick up my friend."

Santana turned from the drink fountain. Relieved to see a familiar face, she sighed and said, "Hi."

"Hi," Rachel Berry smiled at the apprehensive teen, "Are you ready to go?"

"Yeah, let me grab my bag." Santana took a long sip of her water, before tossing it in the trash bin, then picked up her backpack, turning toward Rachel.

"Is that all you brought with you?" Rachel asked, slightly confused.

"What you see is all I've got," Santana responded, "I'm pretty hopeless, huh?"

"I'm glad you called, Santana…," Rachel smiled broadly. 

* * *

><p>"Hello…? Earth to Brittany…," Mrs. Pierce said with a chuckle and a slight nudge to her silent passenger.<p>

Brittany turned away from the window to look at her mom who was driving. "Huh?"

"Do you think I should wear my blue scarf or that new gold necklace with my blazer?" her mother repeated.

"I don't know…both?"

"Oh, honey…I think that would be a bit much, don't you?" Mrs. Pierce continued in her lighthearted conversation, "I'm thinking the scarf…especially if it's windy at night while we're in Chicago…besides your father always compliments me when I wear that scarf…he says it matches my eyes."

Brittany turned back toward the passenger window without commenting.

"Where are you tonight, dear? It's like you're a million miles away."

"I just have a lot on my mind," Brittany told her.

Mrs. Pierce reached over with her right hand to turn off the radio in the van, "Is it anything we can talk about?"

Brittany had always been close to her parents, her mom in particular. The blonde teen was filled with guilt about not being upfront with her own family even though she'd pushed Santana to be more open with hers. _That was really bad advice, Britt_, she scolded herself.

Brittany was unsure whether her parents truly did not notice her relationship with Santana or if they were simply afraid to ask and confirm it. Either way, it now seemed unfair to Brittany that Santana was forced out of her home while she was still indirectly shielding herself from any family drama.

Seeing an open opportunity, the young blonde decided to take it. "You want me to be happy, right?" Brittany asked, caution creeping into her voice.

"Of course…that's all your father and I have ever wanted for you or your sister," her mom assured her.

"Well…what if me being happy…like _truly_ happy…," she began, but her emotions surfaced unexpectedly, "…meant I needed to tell you something about myself?"

The hundreds of times Brittany practiced this speech in her head over the last year or so did not make this exact moment in time any more manageable. She suddenly had no clue how to say what she'd longed to say, allowing her tears to take control of her as she broke into a sob.

"Brittany, honey…," Mrs. Pierce slowly pulled the car into an empty hardware store parking lot, putting it into park and unbuckling her seatbelt, she leaned over to hug her eldest daughter.

The blonde teen put her arms around her mom, squeezing her tightly, "I love you so much, Mom…and I just don't want to disappoint you."

Her mother pulled back and put her hands on each side of Brittany's face. "Brittany Susan Pierce…I want you to look at me…you are my daughter, and I love you more than my own life…and there is not anything…_anything_…you can tell me that will ever change that…ok?"

Brittany nodded and wiped at her wet face. Her mother reassuringly rubbed her upper arm.

"Santana and I are more than friends," Brittany revealed nervously, watching her mom closely for any sign of wavering.

Mrs. Pierce smiled lovingly, "I know, sweetie."

"Why didn't you say anything to me?"

"Your father and I felt like you would tell us when you were ready."

"I love her, Mom," Brittany confessed.

"I know you do."

"She's in a lot of trouble."

Mrs. Pierce hugged her daughter again, "Then we'll find a way to help her." 

* * *

><p>"Sooo…this is my room," Rachel said with a big smile as she spun around proudly, gesturing grandly, "Welcome!"<p>

Santana made a full circle and looked around the brightly decorated bedroom, trying to adjust her eyes to the sensory overload she was experiencing. Rachel's room vastly differed from the Latina's bedroom at her house. Santana had selected black wallpaper and dark furniture with black accessories when her parents allowed her the chance to make over her childhood room two years ago. She considered her bedroom her sanctuary, her cave. Her funky candles and low-lit lamps enhanced the vibe when she needed a toke to escape the reality of Lima, Ohio.

Rachel Berry's bedroom was like nothing Santana had ever seen with its sunshine yellow walls, multi-colored accessories, glossed-white furniture, stuffed animals, and Broadway show posters hanging on every inch of space.

"Wow, Berry…it looks like Broadway _threw up_ in here."

"Oh, well…I do enjoy keeping my eye on my goal."

"You've done things with a glue-gun that I didn't think was humanly possible."

"My motto is: Never miss an opportunity to accessorize!"

"Well…you certainly haven't," Santana said sarcastically.

Rachel grimaced, her enthusiasm draining from her pretty face.

Santana realized she had taken an unfair zing at the shorter brunette who so quickly agreed to help her earlier in the evening, softening to say, "Hey, I'm sorry…it's…um…cheery…like you."

"Thanks!" Rachel's face brightened again, "So, I'll show you the guest room next door…you can make yourself at home in there, ok? Mi casa es su casa!"

There was a knock on the door, and a short, balding man in his middle 40s stuck his head in, "Hey girls…getting settled?"

"Yes, Dad…thanks," Rachel responded, "I was just going to give Santana a quick tour of the upstairs and get her settled in the spare room."

"Great," Rachel's dad said, "Do you need me to help with your suitcase, Santana?"

"Oh…um…Dad...," Rachel leaned toward him to mumble discreetly, discreet being something Rachel Berry was never very good at, "…Santana wasn't able to get any clothes before…her parents…um…."

"Thanks…but…," Santana interrupted Rachel's explanation attempt, "I'm traveling light tonight, Mr. Berry,"

Rachel had previously given her dads the few details she'd gotten from Santana when she asked them if the taller brunette could stay with them for a few days. "No problem…and please call me Daniel, ok?"

"I really appreciate you letting me stay here tonight."

"You're welcomed to stay as long as you want," Daniel assured the troubled teen, pushing up the nosepiece of his black-framed glasses,"…Santana…I don't want to put you on the spot, but…do you have any money?"

Santana blushed in embarrassment, looking down, she answered softly, "No."

Pulling a leather wallet out of the back pocket of his khaki pants, he removed three twenty dollar bills and handed them to Santana, "Here, take this for lunch money…coffee…lip balm…whatever else you need, ok?"

"Mr. Berry…I can't take this…," Santana shook her head.

"Stop…it's Daniel… and consider it a loan then," he smiled, trying to make her feel more at ease, "…you can pay it back whenever you can…no hurry, alright?"

Santana accepted the cash with a timid smile, "Thank you…Daniel."

"No problem at all…now, is there something you can wear for school?"

"I need to do a load of laundry tonight, Santana. If you want, we can toss in your jeans and stuff too so it'll all be clean for tomorrow," Rachel told her.

Daniel Berry unfolded his wallet again and reached his hand back in to pull out a plastic card which he handed to his daughter, "Rachel…weren't you headed to the mall after school tomorrow?"

Rachel took the credit card with a knowing smile, "Yes…there's a big sale going on."

"Well, you girls go see what you can find in the way of summer clothes," he said enthusiastically, "…and I don't want you to return until you both have your hands full of bags, ok?"

Santana was overwhelmed at the unexpected generosity of Rachel and her dads. Not knowing how to react or what to say, tears formed in the corners of her eyes. She looked away for a brief moment to wipe at them, hoping the two Berrys didn't notice. "Thank you…for everything," she said as she turned her head back toward them.

Daniel fully understood the devastation and uncertainty he saw written all over Santana's face. Besides his own coming out story, he knew so many young gays and lesbians who had been rejected by their families because of their sexuality.

There wasn't much he could say or do at this moment to overpower that ache Santana surely was feeling, but he at least wanted her to know she was among people who had walked the same path and who wanted her to feel accepted.

He took a few steps toward her and put his arms around her, squeezing tightly, "Come to me if you need anything…ok?"

Santana nodded and squeezed back. She still wasn't sure what made her call Rachel earlier that night, something in her gut guided her, but standing inside the Berry house, in the most bedazzled bedroom the Latina had ever seen, Santana suddenly felt at home. 

* * *

><p>Brittany lay in her bed, writing in her journal. She completed the last sentence and replaced the cap on her pen then returned the dried, flattened pink rose inside the pages to mark her place, remembering the night Santana gave her the tiny flower. Fresh tears fell from her blue eyes as her thoughts filled with worry. She wiped her face and set her journal on her nightstand when her cell phone buzzed.<p>

"Santana…," she answered, relieved.

"Hey, love…," the raspy voice said on the other end.

"Are you ok?"

"Surprisingly…yeah…I'm good."

"I'm so glad, honey," Brittany sighed heavily, her worry slowly leaving her body, "Is Rachel there?"

"No, I'm alone…I have my own room and everything."

"That's great," Brittany told her, "…so I'll see you at school tomorrow?"

"Of course," she confirmed, "They've been wonderful to me, Britt…one of her dads even gave me some spending cash."

It made Brittany feel guilty for all the times they had made fun of Rachel. _She has such a good heart_…Brittany thought to herself, vowing silently to make sure Rachel knew that in the future.

"That's awesome…," the blonde confirmed, "Hey, Santana…can I tell you something without you getting upset?"

"I hate when you ask me that."

"Why?"

"Cause it always means you're getting ready to tell me something upsetting…," Santana retorted.

"Promise me."

Brittany heard a huge sigh on the other end of the phone before she heard, "I promise."

"I told my mom about us tonight."

"Brittany…we agreed."

"No, _you_ agreed…but you promised you wouldn't get upset…anyway, she was totally cool about it."

"Seriously?"

"She sort of said what I hoped she'd say…."

"Which was…?"

"That they already knew."

"And they don't care?"

"Guess not…," Brittany was reserved with the details, not wanting to add salt to Santana's wound.

"That's great for you, Britt," Santana wasn't sure what to feel about that. She paused to think about it, deciding she would rather take the bullet than Brittany, "No, I'm really…_really_…happy for you, Britt. Your parents have always been so fantastic…so I'm glad they came through for you."

"I told her what happened…she said if you want her to try to talk to your mom then she would."

"No," Santana said abruptly, "I mean, I appreciate it…I do…so thank her…but I don't think it would do any good…at least not right now, ok?"

"I get it, honey…," Brittany assured her, "…you don't have to explain. If you change your mind then just tell me."

"Let's stop talking about all that now, ok?"

"What would you rather talk about?"

"You…and me."

Brittany could practically hear Santana smile through the phone. "That is a much better topic."

"I can't wait to spend time with you this weekend."

"I'm looking forward to it too...," Brittany said with rising excitement, "I'll come by and pick you up Friday night once I drop my parents at the airport."

"Works for me," Santana's mind was already wandering to images of lying in Brittany's arms, "I'm thinking of you right now…your arms around me."

"It's funny cause I can smell you on my comforter, it's like you're here with me."

"I will be soon, love."

"Goodnight, Santana…I love you."

"I love you too, Britt…goodnight." 

* * *

><p>There was a soft knock on the guest bedroom door as Santana put her cell phone on the bedside table. She stood to open it, finding Rachel Berry on its other side.<p>

"Here are your clothes," the smaller brunette said, handing over a stack of folded garments.

"You didn't have to fold them, Rachel…but thanks," Santana smiled.

"I've always found it best to fold everything right as it comes out of the dryer to ensure fewer wrinkles."

"Gotcha…," Santana stood there, not sure what else to say.

"So the PJs fit, I see," Rachel observed with excitement.

"Um…well, sort of…the pants are a little short," Santana called attention to the hem being above her ankles.

Rachel laughed, "Well…I am _petite_…as you like to point out."

Santana laughed too, inspecting the arms of the button-up pajama top, "I don't think I've ever worn anything with giant clouds before."

"Well, I thought the clouds were much less ironic than the rainbow ones."

Santana nodded in agreement, "_Much_ less."

"I just opened a new toothbrush…it was a two pack so I'm bringing you the extra," Rachel handed a half-opened plastic package to the taller brunette.

"Thanks."

"There's toothpaste in the top drawer of the vanity," she told her.

"You forget what all you use every day when you're in your own space," the Latina said somberly.

"Well, don't worry…cause you and I will get everything else you need tomorrow, ok?"

"I appreciate it, Rachel…really I do," Santana's feelings of helplessness were close to the surface, and her eyes glossed over with fresh tears.

"Hey, I'm actually really happy to have you here…I get to pretend that I have the sister I always wanted…at least for a few days."

Santana smiled at the sentiment, privately knowing she'd always wanted a sister too.

"I'm going to hug you now…ok?" Rachel smiled broadly.

"Yeah…ok…," the Latina returned the smile, opening her arms to accept the hug.

"Goodnight, Santana…see you in the morning!"

"Goodnight, Rachel…," she told her as she closed the door behind her.

Santana turned around, leaning back against the wooden door. _Am I really spending the night at Rachel Berry's house_, she thought. She looked back down at the sky blue pajamas with white puffy clouds that were two inches too short at the wrists and the ankles. _Yep, I sure am, s_he snickered to herself. 

* * *

><p>"I heard a nasty rumor about you this morning…," Kurt said as soon as he sat across the table from Santana in the lunch room.<p>

"That I'm gay?" she responded sarcastically, pouring Italian dressing over her lettuce.

"No, that was obvious months ago, dear…," he retorted while spreading his paper napkin in his lap, "…no…_this_ vicious accusation came from one Finn Hudson…involving the bizarre notion that you are living at the abode of Miss Rachel Berry."

"_Living_ there?" Santana ripped the top off a blue packet of Equal to stir into her cup of iced tea.

"Insane, isn't it?" he chuckled.

"Crazy talk…," she sipped her tea through a clear straw then set it back on her cream-colored tray.

"So it's true…?" Kurt confirmed.

Santana shrugged, "They're letting me stay for a few days is all."

"Well, as generous as that is…that would only happen if you were currently suffering memory loss from a blow to the head…or…you have no other place to go," he observed bluntly, "And…since you are conscious and appear to know who I am at the moment…."

"My parents threw me out, ok?" the brunette said dismissively.

"Which of your many devious activities did they finally catch on to…?" he asked as he took a mouth full of brown rice.

"What even is that?" Santana leaned down to inspect the chicken and rice mixture on his lunch plate.

"It's the special…some teriyaki rice bowl thing…and don't try to distract the topic, Santana."

"They caught me and Brittany together," her frustration rising to the surface, "Not everyone has parents as accepting as yours."

"You're right…I apologize for making light of your situation," Kurt reached across and put his hand over hers, tenderly patting it, "Truce?"

Santana smiled hesitantly at him, "I don't mean to take it out on you…I'm happy for you…and for Brittany…that your parents support you guys unconditionally."

"So why don't you stay with Brittany, if her parents are supportive," he asked.

"They just found out…it needs time to soak in," she told him.

"Why not Quinn then?"

"Her mom is on the Fine Arts committee with my mom…I don't want my whereabouts reported back to her."

"You act as though this is irreparable, Santana…perhaps your parents just need a combination of time and re-education," he smiled supportively.

"My father's professional reputation and status in the community has always been the priority in my family," the Latina set down her black plastic fork and pushed her tray away from her.

"What are you going to do then?"

"Get a job, I guess?"

"Do you want me to see if my dad needs any help at his shop this summer?"

"Isn't it a mechanics shop?"

"Yes…," he smirked.

"Do I look like I'm good with my hands?" the Latina grimaced, holding them both up.

Kurt paused at the question before laughing unintentionally.

Santana broke into a laugh too. "I mean, I've gotten no complaints so far," she playfully slapped across the table at his arm.

"Information that I do not need to know, my dear…," he jokingly held his hand up to stop the topic in its tracks. 

* * *

><p>"We got The Little Mermaid, Santana!" Brittany's sister excitedly announced as she skipped into the kitchen ahead of the tall blonde.<p>

"Awesome," Santana responded, sprinkling a handful of shredded mozzarella around the circular edge of some light-colored dough, "Do you want to help by setting those plates on the table for us?"

"Sure!" the little blonde enthusiastically agreed.

Brittany moved around the center-island and closer to the brunette, hugging her from behind. As she wrapped her arms tightly around Santana's trim waist, squeezing firmly, she leaned in and kissed her on the cheek.

"So she let you pick, huh?" Santana joked, knowing Brittany's soft spot for Disney movies.

"I had to agree to take her for ice cream on Sunday...," Brittany laughed, unashamed of her selection, "…but it's a fair trade."

"Hand me that bowl of pepperoni please," she pointed to the side counter.

"This looks amazing, Santana," she said, handing her the small bowl with red slices in it, "You didn't have to go to so much trouble though…we could have picked up pizza while we were out."

"No, I wanted to do something special," the brunette assured her, "We used to always make homemade pizza at my house when I was little."

Brittany felt a tug at her heart, hearing Santana mention happier times at the Lopez house, "Yeah, I remember…your mom always made the dough from scratch."

Santana paused, realizing the path the conversation had suddenly taken, "Well, this dough from the market is really good too."

Brittany turned Santana around. Putting her hands on each side of Santana's jaw and pulling her nearer, Brittany kissed her tenderly.

The teens heard giggling behind them followed by, "You two are kissing just like Mommy and Daddy."

They looked over at the little blonde who covered her snaggled-tooth grin with her small hands.

"It's cause you loooove each other," the child said playfully.

"That's right, squirt…jealous?" Santana teased.

"It's better than kissing boys…they're nasty…yuck!"

"Well…I agree with you on that one," Santana winked at Brittany who smiled knowingly.

"Ok, why don't you take these cups to the table…?" Brittany leaned to hand them to her sister.

Santana turned back around to spread the pepperoni over the cheese then picked up the round, silver pan and walked it over to the heated oven, setting the timer for fifteen minutes.

"Oh! I wanted to remember to tell you…I packed you a bag of clothes to take back to Rachel's when you go," Brittany said, "It's basically just casual things…shorts and tanks and stuff."

"Thanks, love…I got this skirt and shirt yesterday at the mall…what do you think?"

"I love it!"

"Rachel tried to 'help me' with my summer look," Santana emphasized with air-quotes, remembering the various pieces of clothing Rachel kept bringing to the changing room for her to try on.

"I'm guessing she didn't select that outfit?" Brittany clarified, noting the light-denim mini-skirt and the low-cut, black, fitted top.

"Um, no….if Rachel dressed me, I would have left the mall with a bag full of plaid and woodland creatures."

Brittany laughed uncontrollably, "I would pay actual money to see you dressed in a shirt with a giant owl on it."

"That wouldn't be funny, Britt…that would just be tragic," Santana shared in the laughter. 

* * *

><p>"She's asleep…finally," Santana said, stepping back down the stairs into the living room, "Four books later…one of which I had to read three times."<p>

"Ladybug Girl?"

"Yep…," the Latina confirmed, plopping down on the couch above Brittany who was seated on the floor, leaning back against it.

"She adores you, you know?"

"She's a cutie…she reminds me so much of how you were at that age," Santana remembered sweetly, "well…you're still pretty much like that…it's one of your best qualities."

"That I'm like a seven-year-old?" Brittany wasn't quite sure if it was a compliment or not.

"That you have the ability to see past all the shit in the world to find the joy," Santana specified, leaning into the blonde's body, nudging her with her strong shoulder.

Brittany reached up and grabbed behind her to squeeze Santana's shoulders, telling her, "You…are…wonderful."

"I…am…_exhausted_," the brunette retorted, putting her head on Brittany's shoulder, "The Berrys are a very…animated…group...they talk…and sing…and talk some more…all the fucking time."

"Oh, Santana…be nice!" Brittany playfully swatted at the Latina.

"That _was_me being nice," she defended, "I just don't have _that much_ to say."

Brittany lifted her head to kiss Santana's neck softly. She heard a soft moan from the girl above her, and she whispered, "So…just how exhausted are you?"

"Not too exhausted to do this," Santana slid down to the floor and into Brittany's lap, wrapping her legs around the blonde's waist and locking her ankles. She tangled her fingers among Brittany's long locks of hair, pulling her into a deep kiss. The two of them continued their passionate kisses for several minutes, as their tongues dove deep into each other's mouths and their hands moved up and down each other's necks.

Santana reached down and lifted Brittany's t-shirt, tugging up on it.

"Wait…my sister…," Brittany abruptly said.

"She's sound asleep, behind a closed door," Santana assured her, pulling the shirt the rest of the way off and putting her lips back on Brittany's.

Brittany relented to the growing intensity between them, reaching behind her and taking off her own bra then helping Santana remove her shirt and bra. Santana shifted her position to push Brittany onto her back. As the brunette pulled down Brittany's jeans and panties, the blonde lifted her hips off the ground to assist in their removal.

Brittany's skin now exposed, Santana ran her nails down Brittany's sides, leaning lower to run her tongue inside the blonde's ear, pausing to blow hot air before nibbling at its lobe then licking right behind it. _This drives her crazy_…Santana purred internally, smirking when her action was rewarded with a low moan deep from Brittany's throat. She moved on to a pulse point on Brittany's neck, careful though not to suck too hard…but just hard enough. Santana then sat up, astride Brittany's pelvic bone, to run her hands over Brittany's firm breasts, fondling and stroking them both.

She loved hearing the way Brittany's breath caught in her throat as Santana leaned back down to run her tongue down the center of the blonde's chest and around her nipples, flicking at them before sucking…_hard_.

Brittany arched her back, reflexively pushing more of her breast into Santana's mouth as she hungrily accepted it. Her fingers weaved through the Latina's long, raven hair as Brittany pressed Santana's head into her chest.

Santana passionately moved between each breast, kneading, pinching and pulling at both nipples as Brittany moaned loudly. The blonde continued to rock and thrust her hips underneath Santana as she sat on top of her, Brittany's warmth and desire growing deep inside.

Santana broke away from the blonde's breasts, finding her way back to her lips and kissing her hard. When the Latina pulled away from her, Brittany held her bottom lip between her teeth, biting hard and smiling when it caught Santana off guard. The brunette paused just long enough to look deep into Brittany's eyes, as the corners of Santana's mouth curled into a sultry smirk.

Almost as if that act required a good-natured punishment, Santana shifted herself and reached down to insert two fingers deep into Brittany, thrusting hard…twice.

"Oh fuck…," Brittany said loudly at the unexpected intrusion.

"That's the idea…," Santana said in a low guttural tone, thrusting her hand harder and deeper, feeling the walls of Brittany's vagina clench tightly around her hand.

Brittany's breathing instantly became sharper and more shallow, "…oh god…harder!"

Santana smiled, squeezing a third finger into the tight space and pumping her hand as hard as Brittany's grasp would allow, curling her fingers upward inside her while rubbing her throbbing clit with her thumb.

When that action was met with Brittany's hips rotating harder against her touch, Santana confirmed, "...faster?"

"Uhuh…," Brittany could hardly think, but she made sure to say, "…don't stop…please."

Brittany's breathing became even heavier as she felt the weight of Santana's body sink into her, allowing her more leverage to carry out the blonde's request.

Santana continued to rubbed Brittany's clit while pumping her hand deep inside her, and it wasn't much longer before she felt the rocking of Brittany's hips halt and her long legs go taut beneath her. Feeling the muscles around her aching hand become even tighter, Santana stopped her movement to let Brittany ride out her orgasm until she finally went limp with satisfaction.

Santana put her head on Brittany's chest and laid still, listening to the blonde's breathing return to normal and allowing her hand to rest inside her. Once Brittany stirred slightly, Santana moved upward to kiss her sweetly as she pulled her fingers out of her.

Brittany whimpered softly, instantly reacting to the void. She wrapped her arms around Santana's bare back, squeezing tightly and savoring the feeling of Santana's exposed skin pressed against her.

"Thank you," Brittany didn't know what else to say to express how much she had needed that release.

Santana chuckled, "You're welcome." 

* * *

><p>Santana nervously tugged at the lower portion of her sleeveless, white top as she waited for an answer to her knock on the door.<p>

"Good afternoon, Santana…come in…," Dr. Shane said with a smile, opening the door wide for the teenager to enter, "Please have a seat."

Santana stepped over to a brown leather chair and sat down, crossing her legs at the knees and watching her psychiatrist sit in the chair directly across from her.

"How was New York?" the older woman asked, picking up her leather-bound notepad from her side table.

"We lost," Santana stated matter-of-factly.

"Lost?"

"It was the national show choir competition…we finished in twelfth position."

"The twelfth best choir in the nation though…," the doctor complimented, "That's impressive."

"I guess."

Dr. Shane could sense the teen was not interested in discussing that further, "How have you felt now that you're taking the medication?"

"I didn't really feel anything the first couple of days…but I guess it's working…cause I do feel calmer…today anyway."

"It takes a week or so to fully move throughout your system…I'm glad you are starting to feel better though," the therapist advocated, "Is there anything specific you would like to discuss today?"

Santana paused and looked down, unconsciously drumming her fingers on the arm of the oversized chair. "I got thrown out."

"What happened?"

"My father happened."

Santana looked up at the doctor, seeing her brow furrowed in confusion. "He walked in on Brittany and me…together…on the couch."

"I see…," Dr. Shane said without judgment in her voice.

"…not having sex or anything…but it was obvious we weren't studying."

"And so he threw you out?"

"Well, not until my mom showed up and filled him in on the details."

"It sounds like a difficult situation…where are you staying now?"

"With a friend…," Santana said without any of her previous hesitation, "It's working out ok…better than ok, actually."

"That's wonderful, Santana."

"I haven't had to worry about what to say or what to do...or not do...at all the last few days…it's been great."

"Have you given anymore thought to a session with your parents present?"

"Not really."

The therapist pulled a long white envelope from the pocket of her binder. The young Latina instantly recognized the large, ornate handwriting which said "Santana" in bold, black ink. "I spoke to your mother yesterday when I called to confirm our appointment…then I found this under the door when I arrived today."

The two leaned toward each other to exchange the envelope. Santana sat back and looked at it, apprehensively running her index finger along its sharp edge, once then twice, contemplating its contents.

"Would you like a moment to read it?"

Santana paused, unsure of whether she even cared to know what it said, then ultimately relented, "Yes, please." She ran her finger under a small gap in the closure until the seal was completely ripped open. As she unfolded the pink sheet of stationary, a check fell into her lap. She picked it up and inspected it. It was from her mom's personal account, in the amount of $500.

She silently read the letter.

_**Santana,**_

_**I never wanted this to be the outcome. I tried to protect you as long**_

_**as I could. We both know your father can be unreasonable at times,**_

_**but he does love you. I love you. I want you to know that. You will**_

_**always be my daughter, my only child, no matter where you go or**_

_**what you do, but I cannot accept your behavior recently. It is not only**_

_**embarrassing to your father and me, it is sickening in the eyes of God.**_

_**I have prayed long and hard for you to overcome this affliction. I have**_

_**gone back over your childhood in my mind, trying to pinpoint where I**_

_**went wrong with you that you would conduct yourself like this. I truly**_

_**hope that these therapy sessions help you work through your issues.**_

_**I want nothing more than for you to get well and come back home. Until**_

_**then, your father feels that this is best for us all. I hope this money will**_

_**make things easier for you. We will keep it between you and me.**_

_**Love,**_

_**Mom**_

Santana refolded the paper, returning it with the check inside the envelope and placing her folded hands delicately in her lap. She thought a moment about the intent behind her mother's message, as misguided as it was, then she took a deep breath, remembering Quinn's words to her on the plane. _This is my mother's issue, not mine_…_I have done nothing wrong_, she silently told herself with growing confidence.

She looked up at Dr. Shane who was observing her quietly, telling her cheerfully, "Brittany and I have decided we're moving to New York City after graduation."

"Oh? That sounds exciting," the kindhearted doctor encouraged, "Tell me more about your plans." 

* * *

><p>"You swear you can't see, right?" Brittany asked, helping Santana balance herself as the teens navigated the last few steps of the Pierce staircase until they reached the top landing.<p>

"No, Britt…I can't see a thing…," the Latina assured her, "…but couldn't you have tied this blindfold on me _after_ we were up the stairs?"

"Oh yeah…I guess that would have made more sense…," the blonde giggled, "…sorry about that."

Brittany turned Santana by the shoulders and pushed her forward several paces then stopped and leaned past her to open a door.

"Mmm…it smells wonderful in here…is this your bedroom?"

"Yes…," Brittany confirmed, pushing Santana forward again until they were both through the doorway, closing the door behind them.

Santana reached to slide off the blindfold, assuming they had arrived at their destination. She felt Brittany's hand slap hers away from her attempt.

"Not yet…," the blonde playfully scolded.

Santana sensed that Brittany was only inches from her, feeling the blonde's hot breath on her cheek replaced by a quick kiss. The next thing she felt was Brittany taking both her hands into her own, curling her long fingers gently around the backs of them. As her palms pressed into Brittany's palms, Santana noticed something subtle…_Britt's hands are trembling_, she thought.

"I really hope you like this, Santana…cause I worked on it the whole time you were gone this afternoon."

Santana could hear a small tremble in Brittany's voice too. Earlier in the day, she had wondered why the tall blonde had given her a list of errands to run once she finished her therapy session. Brittany had even bowed out of riding along when she asked Santana to drive her sister to the slumber party. _It all makes sense now_, Santana smiled.

"Ok…here goes…," Brittany reached up and tugged on the scarf that was covering Santana's eyes.

Santana squinted hard, allowing herself to adjust from total darkness, then her eyes fluttered back open. She stood there in silence for what seemed like forever to Brittany before finally saying, "You did all this…for me?"

"Yes…do you like it?" Brittany asked hesitantly followed by a deep intake of air.

"I love it, Britt…I love everything about it," the brunette confirmed softly, emotionally overwhelmed.

Brittany had taken a long, thick piece of packing string and tied it from one end of her bedroom to the other, high above her headboard. She had then draped light-colored sheets over the string to create a tent inside the bedroom then she wrapped everything in white christmas lights, creating a glow throughout the room.

Santana turned and pulled Brittany into a tight embrace. The blonde stepped back and brushed raven hair off Santana's forehead, seeing that her brown eyes were moist with emotion. Brittany moved toward her desk and pushed play on her iPod.

As slow-sung tunes started playing through the white speakers, Brittany stepped back toward the Latina, holding up an outstretched arm, "Will you dance with me, Santana?"

The brunette reached out and put her hand inside Brittany's open palm, smiling up at her as a tear fell.

Brittany pulled Santana toward her, putting her other hand on the small of Santana's back, swaying slowly to the rhythm of the music. The couple danced together through the end of the first song then as the second song started, Santana leaned closer into Brittany, wrapping her arms around her, and lowered her head onto the blonde's prominent shoulder. They moved together in unison until the second song ended then Brittany kissed the top of Santana's head.

"I've wanted to dance with you…for so long now," Brittany confessed meekly.

Santana looked up at her, "I wanted so bad to ask you to dance on prom night."

"I would have said yes…in a heartbeat."

"I know you would have…and then the rest of the night would have been different," the Latina said sadly.

Brittany put a long finger to Santana's lips, "Shhh…that night doesn't exist inside this room."

Santana looked around the bedroom again, "It's magical in here, Brittany."

"Is it how you remembered?"

"…Better."

"Then…do you trust me?"

Santana's voice quivered, "…always."

Brittany smiled and started unbuttoning Santana's white top. The brunette could see Brittany's fingers shaking as she undid each of the tiny buttons…almost as much as Santana remembered them shaking the first time they removed each other's Cheerios uniforms to climb into bed together.

Santana helped her by sliding the top off and dropping it to the side then sliding off her bra once Brittany unhooked the back. The Latina did the same for the blonde.

Brittany consciously left on her and Santana's jeans, leading Santana over to the bed. Careful not to brush against any of the lit candles, Brittany pulled back part of the draped sheet and tucked it behind her headboard, creating an opening to the bed.

Santana smiled when she saw the lights were strung inside the fabric nook too. Once Brittany lowered herself onto the mattress, Santana settled on top of her, laying her head on Brittany's chest. She listened to the sound of Brittany's heartbeat and the rhythm of her breathing, trying to free her mind of the destructive thoughts that were never very far below the surface.

Brittany lay silently beneath her and held her, enjoying the softness of Santana's skin as the blonde gently rubbed her. After several calming minutes, Santana rolled off of Brittany and onto her back, pulling the blonde with her until their positions were switched.

The music played softly in the background, and Santana noted several of her personal favorites, knowing Brittany must have made a special playlist for the occasion. She smiled up at the blonde and pulled her head down to kiss her.

As they kissed, Brittany tenderly rubbed Santana along her arm and down her side. Feeling more confident that things were going well, Brittany massaged the side of Santana's breast, brushing her fingertips lightly over the mound of flesh, instantly feeling how her nipple hardened and the darker skin around it wrinkled. The blonde lowered her head and licked at them with her tongue, hearing soft moans escape from the brunette below her. Incited, Brittany started gently sucking, first on the left nipple then shifting to suck Santana's right.

Santana felt heat start building deep inside her groin, but instead of fighting against it as she had done recently, she allowed herself to enjoy it, pulling Brittany into another passionate kiss.

The blonde continued to manipulate Santana's ample breasts as they kissed, finding herself pausing slightly as the Latina dragged her fingernails across the flesh of Brittany's shoulders. She squeezed the dark nipples harder, causing Santana to moan loudly and scratch harder and downward until Brittany felt the brunette's hands slip under the waistband of her jeans to grab at both of Brittany's butt cheeks.

"Do you want me to take these off?" Brittany asked, trying to stay in check with Santana's mental state.

"Yes…," the brunette told her without hesitation.

Brittany rose up onto her knees and unbuttoned her jeans, pulling them, along with her underwear, over her narrow hips and down her long legs and bending skillfully to pull them off her ankles. She then smiled at Santana as she reached out to drop them over the side of the bed.

Santana looked at her love in the glow of all the white lights, seeing the same sparkle in her blue eyes that was there when they were thirteen, marveling at how Brittany had become even more beautiful at seventeen.

"Help me too?" the brunette requested sweetly.

Brittany smiled again and unzipped Santana's jeans, removing them slowly then tossing them on the floor with hers. She kneeled on the bed between Santana's legs and waited for her next cue.

"These too…," Santana started tugging on her black, lacey panties, lifting her hips as Brittany pulled them the rest of the way down and off.

Brittany moved back over Santana and rubbed her abdomen, running a firm touch over its taut muscles and outlining her navel. She locked eyes with the Latina before moving her hand down over her mound, caressing her gently.

As she circled, Brittany allowed her hand to travel a little lower each time, eventually reaching wetness that was collecting on the line of hair which covered Santana's folds.

Santana felt herself becoming wetter and wetter as Brittany's fingers came closer to her core, silently urging herself to push away the images that flashed inside her head, wanting so much to just give herself over to the sensation of Brittany's touch.

Brittany broke their kiss and looked deep into Santana's eyes. Santana nodded, so subtly in fact that Brittany was almost unsure she did…so the blonde asked, "Yes?"

Santana moved her own hand down over the top of Brittany's and guided the blonde's hand into her folds. Brittany began to rub Santana as gently as she had ever touched anything. She could feel that the brunette's clit was enlarged and pulsating so she was encouraged that Santana was truly finding this pleasurable and not just relenting to the act in order to appease Brittany.

The blonde continued to gently move her long fingers up and down the length of Santana's vulva then began focusing a steady touch on her clit. Santana moaned loudly and began to rotate her hips, pulling Brittany closer by her shoulders.

Brittany moved up a little more to lay her cheek against Santana's, listening to her shallow breathing and her growing moans. It wasn't long before Santana tightened her arms around Brittany and went stiff beneath her as her orgasm washed over her.

When the Latina stilled, Brittany went to remove her hand, but Santana stopped her.

"Again…," she told Brittany, her voice cracking, "Inside me this time."

Brittany asked cautiously, "Are you sure?"

"I can do this," she responded, tears falling from her eyes.

Brittany's emotions rose to the surface too, her eyes glossing over. She leaned down to whisper directly into Santana's ear, "I love you, Santana…I want you to know how beautiful and how brave you are…I love you so much."

As Brittany spoke softly to her love, she pushed her middle finger inside her, feeling Santana reflexively jump at the sensation and pull Brittany closer. The blonde continued to assure Santana how much she loved and adored her as she added her index finger then began sliding the two fingers in and out of her.

Santana focused on the sound of Brittany's voice, so soft and sweet, whispering the most loving things she'd ever had anyone say to her. She felt the heat in her groin rise again as Brittany rubbed her still-throbbing clit, and it wasn't but another minute before a second explosion of electricity shot back through her, her muscles quivering under the wave of another orgasm.

Physically and emotionally overwhelmed, Santana broke into a sob. Brittany pulled out of her and wrapped her long arms around the brunette in a tight embrace, crying with her.

Once Brittany heard Santana calm, she kissed her on the forehead then wiped at her wet cheeks with her free hand then kissed the end of her nose, lastly kissing her softly on the lips.

"You did it…," Brittany said with a supportive smile.

Santana couldn't help but lightly laugh at the blonde's innocence and unwavering compassion, "Yay me."

"Yay you…," Brittany smiled bigger.

"Yay _us_…," Santana added, raising her head to kiss Brittany on the lips. 

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note<strong>: This last scene was a long one! Whew. I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter. It wasn't until I finished it that I realized it is sans Quinn. Sorry about that. Perhaps this is when Quinn is off dying her hair pink and joining an all-girl rock band. Guess we'll find out in Chapter 9. Stay tuned…


	9. Chapter 9

Author's note: This chapter is a little shorter than all the others, because you guys have been fantastic to contact me and enthusiastically ask for an update. So at your request…

**HER SMILE HEALS ME **(Chapter 9)

Santana stepped out from inside the bathroom, "Hey, Britt…don't forget to bring a couple of those candles."

Brittany watched Santana's naked form turn back through the doorway. Her heart swelled with how much love and trust they had solidified in their relationship with this night together. She picked up two oversized, square plates that held scented candles and gingerly carried them into the bathroom where Santana was sitting on the side of the tub, filling it with water.

The tall blonde leaned over Santana to set a candle on each side of the bathtub then moved behind her, pushing her long, dark hair off one shoulder to expose the back of her neck. Brittany leaned again to kiss a light trail from the back around to the front of Santana's neck, feeling a slight tug as she was pulled into the brunette's lap for a passionate kiss.

Brittany broke the kiss and ran a caressing hand down the left side of Santana's jawline before standing again. She added some of her lavender-scented bath salt from a small jar she pulled off a shelf near the tub, mentally shaking off a sudden déjà vu flashback to prom night.

Santana lowered her arm into the warm water to help dissolve the salt, looking up to find Brittany staring into space.

"Hey, babe…what's wrong?" Santana asked.

Brittany set the jar on the shelf above her and stepped back toward Santana to put her arms around her neck. She leaned over and kissed her again, grateful for how far they had come together, "I was just thinking of how wonderful this weekend has been."

Santana stood then stepped a slender, tanned leg into the water followed by her other one, lowering herself into the warm water and pulling Brittany's hand to follow her.

The brunette leaned against the back of the tub, guiding Brittany back against her chest and wrapping her arms tightly around the blonde's waist. Santana squeezed her love as she tenderly kissed her bare shoulders, smelling the remnants of sex on her skin.

"Thank you again for tonight," Santana said sweetly.

Brittany gently splashed some of the warm water over their arms and torsos, seeing their skin glisten in the flickering, candlelit bathroom, "I just wanted tonight to be as incredible as you are."

Santana smiled broadly though Brittany couldn't see it.

Brittany sunk down into the water a little more, "This is nice."

"Uhuh…," Santana hooked her legs over the thighs of the blonde, locking her ankles, "We should do this often."

"You know what I've always wanted? One of those old, claw foot tubs…like in the movies," Brittany told her excitedly, covering Santana's arms with her own, "Maybe we'll luck out and have one of those in our apartment in New York…then we can bathe together and make love every night before we go to sleep."

"Britt, sweetie…I don't mean to rain on your romantic parade…but I think we'll probably be lucky if we have a toilet inside our apartment there."

"Really?"

"Yeah…Rachel and I were looking at this binder she put together with neighborhoods and apartment pricing in New York…it's crazy how expensive cost of living is there."

Brittany's excitement evaporated like steam from the warm water, "Oh…well…we're still going to go though…right?"

Santana hated that she zapped the blonde's enthusiasm. She squeezed her tightly again with both her arms and her legs, "Of course! We'll find a way, ok? Even if I have to work three jobs…I promise you I'll get you to New York."

Brittany squeezed back.

Santana started kissing Brittany's neck, vowing in between each kiss, "And…even if…we can't afford a tub…we can still make love…_every night_…before we go to sleep."

The brunette moved her hand down under the water, easily finding Brittany's folds, slipping her middle finger inside them and rubbing. Brittany started absent-mindedly rotating her pelvis to assist with the stimulation Santana was applying, rubbing her own nipples under the slickness of the bathwater. Santana replaced her light kisses with sucking on the crease of the blonde's neck and shoulder, eliciting low, guttural moans from her.

Santana moved her free hand up to squeeze one of Brittany's nipples as she sucked on her neck and rubbed her clit.

"Ohhhh…," Brittany said at Santana's three-point assault on her senses.

The Latina knew that sound meant Brittany was close to climax so she continued with a steady rhythm until the blonde went stiff in her arms under the impact of her orgasm.

After a moment of silence passed, Brittany told her, "Sorry…that was fast."

"I noticed," Santana responded with a purr in her voice.

Santana slid out from behind Brittany, the bath water sloshing slightly over the edge, and raised one of the blonde's long legs over her own head as she ducked and turned herself to face Brittany.

The Latina put her legs around Brittany's waist and pulled her closer for a long kiss. Both girls' hands moved up and down their slick bodies as their tongues moved in and out of each other's mouths.

Brittany pushed her hands downward first, breaking their kiss long enough to check with Santana, "You're sure that you're still doing ok?"

There was no hesitation from the brunette this time when she guided Brittany's hand between her legs, "…Uhuh…more than ok."

Brittany pushed two fingers inside Santana, hearing her gasp at the contact, before feeling Santana push two fingers inside her. The girls kissed and groped and rubbed and pumped each other at an almost frantic pace.

Brittany could feel that her orgasm was going to come quickly again, still feeling very stimulated, but she wanted to hold it off in order to make Santana cum so she reached down and pulled the Latina's hand away, bringing it up around her hip.

Santana started to protest but felt Brittany add a third finger and pull her even closer, the blonde's hand going deeper inside her. Other thoughts vanished from Santana's brain, and she moved her arms up and held on tightly to Brittany's shoulders as the blonde continued to pump her hand harder while rubbing Santana's pulsing clit.

Brittany knew from Santana's moans and gasps that she was on the edge, and it wasn't but a few seconds more before Brittany felt Santana bite her shoulder as an "Ohhhh godddd, Brittt…" escaped loudly. The brunette's body quivered in Brittany's arms as she held her tightly until her climax ended.

Santana laid her head on Brittany's shoulder as that sat with their wet bodies pressed tightly together. Brittany could hear Santana's breathing becoming lighter, and she kissed her on the back of the neck.

"Oh, Britt…we've got to find one of those claw foot tubs."

* * *

><p>"Rachel, did you mention to Santana about our annual Tony Award party?" Daniel Berry asked while passing a large bowl of mashed potatoes to his daughter.<p>

"It will be the hottest invite in Lima next weekend, Santana," Rachel told her, stabbing several green peas with her fork.

"No doubt," Santana said with a mostly-sincere grin.

"Trey, this pot roast is divine…," Daniel told his partner between bites.

"Thank you, dear…," the handsome, dark-skinned man responded, "And this year, Santana…the Tonys fall on LGBT Pride weekend."

"It'll be the closing event in my dads' pride weekend extravaganza," Rachel said, setting her fork and knife down simultaneously so she could gesture grandly.

"Yes…_and_…tell her the best part, Rach," Daniel prodded.

"It's black-tie only…and we all stand around, pretending we're at Sardi's at the pre-show party, and eat crudités and hors d'oeuvres…."

"Made by yours truly," Trey motioned toward himself with a smile.

"…and sip champagne out of champagne flutes…with little slices of strawberry in the bottom," Rachel described with flair.

"Then we check off our ballots as the winners are announced live," Daniel added.

"And whoever pre-selected the most winners gets a gift basket ornately-designed by my dads' friend to look like one of the presenters 'thank you' baskets…doesn't that sound fabulous," Rachel told her.

"I won last year!" Trey added excitedly.

"True…," Rachel confirmed, "…but that was only because Memphis totally robbed American Idiot!"

"It sounds…_festive_…for sure," Santana was actually starting to feel a little scared at the amount of enthusiasm the Berrys were sharing.

The doorbell rang.

"Oh, that should be Brittany…do you mind if I get it?" Santana asked, thankful for her girlfriend's impeccable timing, folding her cloth napkin and tucking it under the edge of her plate.

"Not at all," Daniel smiled.

As Santana approached the door, there was a light knock. She opened it and smiled broadly when she saw the tall blonde on the other side.

"Guess what, guess what, guess what…?" Brittany jumped up and down with uncontrollable excitement.

Santana laughed, pulling her inside the entryway, "What?"

The blonde presented her with a typed-written letter on white paper, holding it out in front of her with both hands clenched tightly at the edges, "I got in!"

"Into what…?" Santana was confused.

"Into Interlochen!" she clarified with a huge smile.

"…the dance camp?"

"Yeah…I got a scholarship for this summer."

"Oh, Britt…that's awesome!" Santana reached out to hug her, "I'm so proud of you."

"My parents wouldn't have been able to afford it without the scholarship so I'm really lucky."

"No…you're really, really talented, my love," Santana pulled her tight again, "…so when do you leave?"

"My mom is going to drive me up to Michigan this Sunday…I'll be there three weeks."

"Three weeks?" Santana asked sadly.

"I know, I'm going to miss you soooo much," Brittany leaned in and kissed the Latina firmly.

"Hey, Brittany," Rachel said, stepping from around the corner.

"Hey, Rachel…are you going to go with us to the movies?"

"No, no…I don't want to be a third wheel on your _date_," the petite brunette insisted.

"Oh, come on, sis…," Santana playfully put her arm around Rachel's shoulders, "It'll be healthy for you to spend an evening **away** from the dads."

"You sure?" Rachel's brown eyes lit up.

Brittany and Santana both nodded.

"Ok, just let me grab my purse and sweater!"

Santana squeezed Brittany's hand and leaned to whisper, "Whatever you do…don't mention The Tony Awards…_please_."

* * *

><p>Quinn opened her front door on the fourth ring of the doorbell to find Puck standing there. "Ringing the doorbell again and again doesn't make me move any faster, you moron."<p>

"Well, hello, Quinn…and a lovely day to you too."

"What do you want, Noah?"

Puck pulled a colorful bouquet of flowers from behind his back and smiled.

"Did somebody die?" Quinn asked dryly.

"No…they're for you," he said with a smirk.

"Why?"

"…Why not?" he pushed them closer to the beautiful blonde.

"Thanks," Quinn took them from his hand and turned unenthusiastically, "I guess I should put them in water."

"Yeah, sure, I'd love to come in…thanks" Puck responded sarcastically, stepping inside and closing the door behind him.

The tall teen walked behind Quinn as she turned left and went down a short hallway. He backed up briefly as he passed a large mirror, stopping to stroke his mohawk and the stubble on his jaw and chin to assure rugged-perfection, then he followed her path into the kitchen where she was reaching up to remove a tall, frosted-glass vase from a cupboard shelf.

"Here, let me get it for you," he moved quickly to reach over Quinn.

"Thank you," she said, taking a step backward.

Puck set down the vase on the counter near the sink while Quinn untied the string and unwrapped the brown paper from around the stems of the bouquet.

"Won't Lauren be upset to know you brought another girl flowers?" the attractive blonde asked nonchalantly as she snipped the ends off each stem with a pair of kitchen scissors.

"Not really…," Puck answered, leaning back against the kitchen island and crossing his muscular arms over his chest.

Quinn looked over at him with a raised eyebrow.

"I broke it off with her at the end of school last week," he admitted with a shrug.

"I see…," Quinn placed the trimmed bouquet into the vase, arranging some flowers higher than others and spreading them around the opening of the vase.

"Why do you say it that way?"

Quinn shrugged and flipped up the long silver handle for the faucet, holding the vase under it to fill it with water.

"I like your new haircut," he told her.

"Thanks…," she said as she turned off the water and turned to set the bouquet in the center of the large island, "…it was time for a change."

"That's more chop than change, Quinn…," he referred to her now-missing long, blonde locks of hair, replaced by a drastically shorter style.

"Well, I really like it…that's all that matters."

"I didn't mean I didn't like it…I do," he tried to clarify, "…seriously, Quinn…you could shave your head in V for Vendetta-style…and you'd still be gorgeous."

"Thanks…I think…," she gave him a small chuckle while shaking her head.

"I noticed you stopped wearing your cross ever since we got back."

"Yeah, well…a lot of good it served me last year, right…?" Quinn instinctively reached up to touch the lower part of her neck where her cross had always hung, ever since her confirmation in middle school, "…so God and I are taking a hiatus from each other."

A stillness hung in the air before Puck said, "…do you ever think about her?"

"Way more than I ever thought I would."

"Me too," he looked down and crossed his left boot over his right one, leaning further into the wood of the island.

"We made the right decision though…to let her be adopted."

"Do you ever think of us?"

"Us…?" Quinn chuckled again, but this time there was less humor in it, "…there was never any _us_, Noah."

"There could be…," he turned his head to look at her.

"Is that what the flowers are for?"

He shrugged, "…I just thought maybe we could try again…just a date…maybe?"

"You're sweet…and you'll always be special to me, Puck…," she moved toward him and wrapped her arms around him in a hug, "…but you know as well as I do that…what _we_ have together…it's just friendship…let's not ruin that…ok?"

"Yeah, ok…well, you can't blame a guy for trying," he squeezed his arms around her, internally thankful that he was tall enough that she couldn't see the tears in his eyes.

* * *

><p>Brittany took Santana's hand and pulled her around the corner of a wooden building. "Promise me that you will do fun things while I'm gone, ok?"<p>

"I promise."

"Don't sit and mope, ok?"

"I won't," the dark-haired teen said, trying to hold back her emotions for Brittany's sake.

"I'll miss you so much,"

"You'll be so busy dancing your butt off you won't even remember my name," Santana tried to sound light-hearted.

"Impossible," Brittany put her hands on Santana's hips and inched her closer.

"I love you, Britt."

"I love you, Santana," the blonde told her, pulling her into a deep kiss.

"Girls…," Mrs. Pierce called out to them as she rounded the corner, "Oh…sorry to interrupt." The older blonde quickly turned her back to them.

"Mom…it's ok," Brittany laughed, cutting her eyes back at Santana who was grimacing.

"Santana…we need to head back now," Brittany's mom informed them, holding her arms out to her daughter, "Give me a big hug, honey…be good, have fun, and call us every day, ok?"

"Yes, I will," Brittany took Santana by the hand as they started following her mom toward the visitor parking lot.

As they reached the blue Sienna, Santana opened the passenger door and climbed in. Brittany leaned in to kiss her once again, pausing to look at her again before saying, "I'll call you tonight at bedtime."

Santana squeezed her hand again and forced a supportive smile, "You'll do great, babe…show them whatcha got!"

"Bye, honey," Mrs. Pierce said from the driver's side as she buckled her seat belt and blew Brittany a kiss.

Brittany closed Santana's door and stepped back to wave goodbye as her mom backed out of the parking space and slowly pulled away.

The car ride was silent for the first thirty minutes. Santana had hot tears forming in her eyes as she sat in the passenger side, looking out the window at the passing trees and highway signs. She was so excited for Brittany to have this opportunity to strengthen her dancing, but the Latina suddenly felt so alone. She was trying hard to hold back her emotions in an effort to avoid any awkwardness with Brittany's mom.

Mrs. Pierce looked over at the brunette teen, "You miss her already, don't you?"

Santana nodded without turning her head toward her, afraid the moisture in her eyes would give her away. She felt a firm hand pat her thigh.

"It's ok, sweetheart…three weeks will fly by…I promise."

"I hope so," Santana wiped at a tear as it finally escaped and rolled down her tanned cheek.

"Do you mind if I ask…have you spoken to your parents recently?"

The question seemed out of nowhere, "Uh…no…why?"

"I've known your mom for many years, Santana…," Mrs. Pierce assured her, "She loves you very much."

"Yeah, well…she has a really fucked up way of showing it," the dark-haired teen said bitterly then caught herself, "…oh crap…I mean…oops, sorry."

Brittany's mom laughed, "Relax…it's ok…I'm not going to wash your mouth out with soap when we get home."

Santana laughed too.

"I want you to think about giving your mom a second chance."

"You sound so sure she'd want one."

"Kids don't come with instructions, Santana. Just think about some of the struggles you and Brittany have had with coming to terms with your own sexual identity. Parents struggle too…with what generations before us have determined as right and wrong."

"But hearing your parents say how wrong you are is way worse than having a stranger tell you," her voice thick with unexpressed hurt.

Mrs. Pierce sighed deeply, "I understand they've let you down, sweetheart…I'm just suggesting you might think about reaching out to them…that's all…just food for thought."

The older woman stretched her arm out and took Santana by the hand, squeezing it gently, then reached to turn on the radio, "…Let's see if we can find a decent station to listen to."

Santana's future with Brittany and her family flashed in the Latina's mind…holidays, vacations, family get-togethers. Santana glanced over at the aging, blonde woman with sincere, blue eyes, and the teen's mind flashed forward twenty years. _That's what Britt will look like_, she thought with a smile. She suddenly felt less alone and instead, Santana felt something she rarely felt _ever_. She felt at peace.

* * *

><p>"Hey, Burt…," Santana leaned down and yelled out over the sound of tools clanking against metal and the radio blasting a 80s rock station.<p>

A slightly-pudgy, middle-aged man, with a ball cap smudged in grease sitting on top of his head, paused from under the car that was jacked up above him, "What?"

"I said…the phone is for you," the dark-haired teen repeated, her long pony-tail hanging as she tilted her head up under the car.

"Just tell them I'll call them back," he told her.

"I did…but it's the parts department from that import place," she said, "The guy said it was important."

Burt Hummel pushed out from underneath the car, pulling himself up from the mechanics dolly, and walked toward the side office, wiping his hands on a dirty, red cloth as he moved. He was on the phone for a couple of minutes before he hung up and said, "Ok, I've got to go over and pick up the part for that Volvo…you can hold down the fort for awhile?"

"Yeah, no problem," Santana assured him.

"I'll stop and pick up lunch on the way back…what sounds good?"

"It doesn't matter."

"Pick now…or I'll bring back burgers and fries."

"Actually, that sounds good," she said.

"Yeah? Ok, you want cheese on yours?"

"Sure…the works…but no onions."

"No onions? Come on, that's the best part…you need to eat some in self-defense if you're going to work around here, kid."

"I'll chance it…," Santana laughed at the jovial man.

"Ok, ok…but the burgers are our secret. Kurt doesn't need to know, deal?" he referred to his ever-concerned son who had been watching Burt like a hawk since he suffered a heart attack last year.

"Deal," Santana smiled.

"Tell Chuck I said to start switching out those tires on the sedan when he gets back."

"Got it."

Santana looked around the shop after Burt drove away. This was her fourth day at her summer job thanks to the generosity of Kurt's dad. She could already tell there wasn't very much for her to do around the shop other than answer the phone, hand things to Burt and Chuck occasionally, and laugh at their dumb jokes, but she was grateful that he was willing to pay her to hang around. In return, Santana was determined to take the job seriously. So each morning, she had been dressed and ready to go when Burt honked outside the Berry house. He had even given her some coveralls to claim as her own, though it had a patch with the name Rick on it. The Latina laughed as she looked down at the stained, gray jumpsuit that she had to roll up at the ankles and the arms.

Santana turned when she heard the rev of a motorcycle pulling into the small lot outside the raised door of the shop. She moved toward the large opening as its rider eased to a stop and cut off the bike's engine. The Latina waited for the rider to take off the shiny, black helmet before she approached, surprised to find it was a young girl not much older than Santana herself.

"Need help?" Santana asked as she walked toward her.

"Yeah…you work here?" the girl seemed as surprised to find Santana in mechanics coveralls as she felt to see a girl riding a sleek, electric blue street bike.

"Yes, but the owner's out right now. He should be back in like forty-five minutes."

"That's ok…do you think I could just use his pliers? This is coming loose," she pointed to some silvery thingy that Santana couldn't identify to save her life.

"Sure, why not…they keep them back over here," she guided the taller girl toward the back corner of the shop.

"I appreciate it…I just don't want to risk part of my bike flying off while I'm riding," she explained.

"Cool bike, by the way," Santana told her as she stooped down to dig through the dusty, metal box on the ground, picking up a tool and standing to hand it to the older girl.

"Thanks, I love riding it!" she said, snickering slightly, "…that's a socket wrench…I need pliers."

"Oh…," the dark-haired teen blushed, "You can just dig around for whatever you need."

Santana watched her squat to search the toolbox. She had short, light-brown hair that had some curl to it which appeared a bit untamed from the helmet she had on earlier, and she wore strategically-ripped Levi jeans with a black, motorcycle jacket. When the girl leaned over, Santana saw she had a tattoo right at the crease of her neck. It said something that Santana couldn't quite make out so, intrigued, she shifted her stance to get a better look.

"Here…," the girl stood unexpectedly, bumping right into the Latina, "Oh sorry."

"No, my fault…I was…um…just trying to see which ones the pliers were," she threw out as a cover.

The girl laughed, "So are you…the owner's daughter or something?"

"No…why?" Santana was puzzled.

"Well, because you don't know anything about cars or tools or fixing things, do you?"

"I do too…," Santana defended.

"Ohhh, I'm sorry to insult you," the taller girl said playfully, "What do you know about cars?"

"I know…where to…put in the gas…and how to find the cup holder for my coffee," Santana laughed, giving up the charade.

The girl laughed with her, sticking out her right hand for a shake and looking at Santana's name patch, "Hi…uh, Rick? I'm Cate."

Santana laughed again, and shook Cate's hand, "I prefer Santana."

"Well, Santana…if I get my coffee mug stuck in my cup holder…I know just who to call."

Santana blushed when Cate winked at her. "Let me see if I can tighten the panel on my bike then I'll get out of your way."

Santana followed her back outside and watched as she used the pliers to maneuver several sections of the blue cover panel.

As she stood there, Santana's phone buzzed inside her pocket. She pulled it out and smiled broadly when she read the text:

_on a break. just thinking of you. miss you. xoxo_

Cate looked up and observed, "Well, that's from someone special."

"Hmm…um, yeah…very," Santana confirmed, biting her lower lip in slight embarrassment.

"Oh, she's blushing…," Cate teased her, "…she your girlfriend?"

"Yes…," Santana answered automatically, "Wait…how did you know…I was…?"

A pause of confusion hung in the air.

"Hey, I didn't mean to offend you," the taller girl back-pedaled.

"I just didn't know I gave off...any _sign_," Santana wasn't sure if she was offended or not.

"Well, it's not like you have a rainbow bat signal over your head or something, Cate laughed out loud, "…I guess we all just get good at recognizing the vibe."

"You're gay?" Santana asked in awe.

The girl laughed again, handing the pliers back to the Latina, "Um…yeah."

"Did you need anything else?" Santana smiled at her.

"No, I think that fixed it…thank you."

"Sure, no problem…not like I really did much."

Cate smiled as she took her helmet off the back part of her bike, "You provided the company…so thanks."

Santana smiled up at her as Cate threw her left leg over the seat of the bike, setting the helmet on her thigh.

"Question…do you know many other lesbians, Santana?"

"Not really."

"Well, what are you doing tomorrow night?"

"Um…nothing…why?"

"You're joining me then…a friend of mine is singing at open mic night at The Lima Bean tomorrow…I play guitar for her," she told her, "…several of our friends with be there, and they'd love to meet you and your girlfriend."

"Oh, she's out of town actually."

"But…you can come though, right?"

"Sure," Santana confirmed with a smile.

"Great! It starts at eight…see you there?"

"The Lima Bean at eight," Santana nodded, watching Cate put on her helmet and start up the bike's engine. Cate gave her thumbs up before she gave the engine a quick rev then drove away.

* * *

><p>Author's note: No worries, readers…I have already started the first scene in Chapter 10. And hang onto your hats, because Chapter 10 will be a wild ride. ;)<p>

Please take just a moment and leave a review to tell me what you think of the story so far. I assure you feedback is vital! Thanks, KB


	10. Chapter 10

Author's note: Whoa, Cate's arrival sure did stir up shit in the Brittana fandom! You guys are awesome to be so invested in this story. I am sincerely humbled, and I thank each one of you for your comments. I am enjoying all the angst Cate has caused, because I know everything that's going to happen. ;)

**Her Smile Heals Me **(part 10)

"AGAIN!" a short woman with her hair pulled tightly into a bun shouted at the group of dancing teens.

Immediately, music came from the brown, upright piano in the front corner of the brightly-lit room. Musical notes flitted through the room as sweating girls and boys moved across the floor at a frantic pace.

Once the music ended, the merciless woman pounded the wooden floor with an ornate walking stick she held in her hands as she paced the perimeter of the room. "AGAIN!" she shouted even louder, "You should know this routine by this point, ladies and gentlemen!"

Teens moved quickly back to their starting positions as the music from the piano started up again. They moved in unison across the floor, stretching and bending and leaping, as the woman monitored their every gesture.

"Mr. Royle…if you are not strong enough to lift your partner you will not make it in this business!" she yelled to a tall, thin brunette.

The group moved together until the music stopped and held their final pose.

The woman took a deep, aggravated breath, "Hopefully, 15 minutes will allow some of you time to locate the talent which supposedly got you into this camp!"

She turned and left the room, walking stick in hand, followed closely by the young man who had been playing the piano. Once the adults departed, the teens moved toward their bags and water bottles at the edge of the room, collapsing to the floor in varied, small groups.

Brittany walked over to her red and white duffle bag, unzipping it and removing a white towel which she used to wipe her freckled face. As she popped the top on her water thermos and sat down in an empty spot along the wall, the gangly brunette approached her.

"How do you do it?" Austin Royle asked her, plopping down facing her.

"Do what…?" the blonde asked, stretching out her long legs, crossing them at the ankles, and taking another long swig of water.

"No matter how much _Elphaba_ screams and bangs that damn stick, you never miss a beat," he told her in awe.

Brittany laughed and wiped at her face again, "She's tame compared to my cheer coach at home."

"God help you then!"

She laughed again. "Ms. Mack isn't that bad, Austin…she just wants to pull the best out of us."

"More like _beat_ the worst out of us," the underweight teen grimaced.

"You just need to practice your lifts…the more you do it, the stronger you'll get."

"Easy for you to say when you're one of the ones being lifted…besides karma must hate me…I'm the smallest guy in here, and I get paired with Miss Baby Got Back."

Brittany smiled at Austin's reference to his partner's sturdy stature. "Ask Sarah to practice the routine outside of class."

"I did…she told me no…she's working on her _ballet_ routine in the evenings."

"Well…I'll help you then…after dinner, come by my room, k?" Brittany told him as Ms. Mack and the piano player returned.

"Oh no…time for another Mack Attack…," Austin grimaced.

As the group quickly put their belongings back to the side of the room and moved to the center, the stone-faced instructor yelled out, "Ok, ladies and gentlemen…I want perfection this time!"

* * *

><p>Santana settled on her bed and pulled a pair of thick, pink socks onto her cold feet. Pushing up under the sheet and comforter, she unlocked her phone to type out an email.<p>

_B -_

_Hi, beautiful! I hope your first week was as awesome as you are._

_I wanted to tell you again how proud I am of you. When I _

_watch you dance, it's like watching your soul fly free. It's in_

_those moments when I fall in love with you all over again._

_Goodnight and sleep well!_

_S_

Santana smiled, thinking of Brittany, as she pushed the send button. She relaxed into the pillows underneath her, scrolling through entertainment news on her phone. As she lay in bed, Santana's phone unexpectedly played Adele's voice, singing "_I could make you happy, make your dreams come true, there is nothing that I would not do_…"

"Hey, love…," Santana answered, knowing it was Brittany.

"Thank you," a soft voice whispered on the other end.

"For…?"

"Your sweet email," Brittany said in a hushed tone, "It meant everything to me."

"I thought you'd already be asleep so I didn't want to call and wake you."

"Yeah, the other girls are asleep," Brittany quietly told her.

"I wondered why you were whispering," Santana laughed.

"I just wanted to tell you I love you," Brittany said, "And to give you a goodnight kiss."

"Aww…I wish you could…I'm missing your kisses so much."

"I would kiss you all over if I were there," the blonde whispered even lower, with a naughty smile that Santana didn't know was there.

"You would, huh?" Santana teased, knowing she had her girlfriend caught in a cumbersome moment on her end, "…well…I would lick you all over…starting with your hard nipples…."

"Ohhh…?" the other girl sounded aroused instantly.

"Yes…and I would nibble them a little…before I sucked on them…_hard_."

"Mmmm…that would be nice," Brittany's breath caught in her throat at the mere thought, and she whispered low into the phone, "so…um…where else would you lick me?"

Santana's lips curled upwards, "I would wrap your long legs over my shoulders…and grab you by the hips and lick up all your wetness."

As Santana continued to describe how she would lick Brittany in her wettest depths, she could hear the blonde's breathing become quite heavy. Very familiar with that sound, the Latina asked, "Britt…are you touching yourself?"

There was a pause before Santana heard Brittany say deeply, "…uhuh."

"It feels good, doesn't it, babe…?" Santana asked in her most sexy voice.

"Uhuh…," Brittany answered, barely audible, then whispered, "…you should try it too."

Santana switch her phone to her right hand then pushed her left one under the waistband of her track shorts, slipping her fingers beneath her panties and into her very wet folds. She closed her eyes and listened to the labored breathing on the other end of the phone as she began to move her finger tips firmly over her pulsing clit.

Brittany heard Santana's breathing quickly switch, matching her own breathiness. Her mind had a clear image of all the times her tongue had been the one to illicit those moans she was hearing from Santana. "Tell me what you're doing to yourself," Brittany very quietly prodded.

"Ohhh babe…I'm thinking of your tongue licking me…you sucking on my clit…."

Brittany tried to choke back her own low moans while her fingers pleasured her, thinking of Santana, but trying hard not to make too much noise that her sleeping roommates would hear.

Santana continued to rub her clit with a steady rhythm. She unconsciously licked at her plump lips with her tongue, her eyes closed and her back arched, imagining the tall blonde down below the sheets, working her usual magic.

"Oh god, Britt…this feels so good…," Santana told her, right on the edge of an intense orgasm, "…are you getting close?"

"Hey, Santana…," a loud voice suddenly sounded as though it was inside the bedroom, "…oh god…I'm so sorry!"

Santana's eyes opened wide with surprise to find Rachel Berry standing inside her room, her eyes equally large with shock.

"Rachel! What the fuck…get out of here!" Santana screamed louder than intended.

The petite brunette turned quickly and left, shutting the bedroom door hard behind her.

"What happened?" Brittany asked, confused.

"Holy fucking christ…," Santana pulled her hand out of her pants, wiping it on the cloth of her shorts as she pulled it out from under the sheets while internally chastising herself for not automatically locking the door _or _turning off the lamp, "Rachel just walked in on me."

Santana heard soft giggling on the other end of the line.

"It's not funny, Britt."

"Yeah…it is pretty funny, Tan…," Brittany quietly teased, knowing she'd already enjoyed her own private release.

"I'm horrified," Santana said dramatically.

Brittany couldn't help but laugh more at the image she suddenly had of Rachel Berry's expression at catching Santana masturbating.

"I'm sorry, sweetie…," the blonde tried to sound understanding despite the humor in the situation, whispering, "…but that'll teach you to lock the door next time, hot stuff."

* * *

><p>"Rachel…?" Santana knocked on the door then opened it when she heard a voice tell her to come in.<p>

Rachel was seated on the floor, propped on several throw pillows against the footboard of her bed, typing on her laptop. She cast a side-glance toward the taller brunette and said, "Hey."

Santana could see that Rachel was flushed with as much embarrassment as she still internally felt. She was trying to follow Brittany's advice to talk to the tiny brunette tonight to dissolve any tension between them.

"Can I join you?" Santana asked cautiously.

"Sure…," Rachel stated, typing on her keyboard.

Santana lowered herself to the floor to sit crisscrossed, facing Rachel.

"Well…um…that was awkward," the Latina tried to joke through the discomfort hanging in the air.

Silence.

Santana tried focusing on what Brittany would want her to do so she forced a smile and said, "I'm sorry I yelled at you, ok?"

Rachel looked at the phone in Santana's hand then looked back at her computer screen, commenting sarcastically, "…I hope you washed your hands."

Santana rolled her eyes. "What's the big deal…don't you and Finn?"

"Me and Finn…what?" Rachel asked with a coy grimace.

"You know…talk dirty over the phone?"

"Never!" The petite teen vehemently denied, instantly turning redder.

"But…haven't you ever wanted to?" Santana surprised herself by actually feeling curious.

Rachel modestly looked down at her laptop.

"You have! Haven't you?" Santana smirked. The taller brunette watched Rachel as she suddenly had lots to type into the computer. "This just in, folks: Rachel Berry is…_**horny**_," Santana teased.

Rachel stopped typing but didn't look up.

"Hold up…are you still a _virgin_?"

The smaller girl looked at her, "Yes…but it's my choice."

"Hey, that's cool…I'm not judging you," she assured her, though she was truly surprised.

Rachel smiled.

"But…you do…um…_you know_…?"

Rachel's brow furrowed.

Santana shrugged…_Why am I even thinking about this,_ she thought…but asked anyway, "…touch…_yourself_…right?"

Rachel instantly looked back down at her keyboard, typing again.

"Ok, stop…," Santana reached across and closed the laptop's screen, "Why does this subject make you so uncomfortable?"

Rachel shrugged, setting her laptop on the floor and pulling a pillow into her lap.

Santana suddenly felt odd in Rachel's presence. _Is it the rape…is it my sexuality_…she thought self-consciously, but asking aloud, "It's not because of _me_, is it?"

"Oh, no…not at all…," Rachel assured her, pausing before adding, "…it just feels uncomfortable talking to you about sex…knowing you've had sex with Finn."

"Oh, right…_that…_," Santana grimaced, "…it seems like a lifetime ago."

"Not to me," Rachel said sadly, looking down at her small hands which were folded in her lap.

"I was a different person then, Rachel…but I'm still really sorry."

"I know…and it's okay…," she gave her a tension-breaking smile, "…so…what was it like?"

"Sex with Finn?"

Rachel nodded.

"It was just sex…that's all…just a physical act," Santana told her bluntly, "…honestly…I just checked out."

"Because of him being a virgin?"

"No…because of me being a lesbian."

The girls smiled at each other and shared a small laugh.

"But…it's not that way with girls?" Rachel inquired.

"Well, I've only been with one girl," Santana revealed.

"The _best_ girl though…huh?" Rachel winked at the Latina.

"The most awesome girl ever," Santana's face lit up with a huge smile.

The phone in Santana's hand unexpectedly started buzzing. She looked at the incoming caller, her face instantly draining of expression. "It's my mom."

"Well, answer it," Rachel encouraged.

"Why would she call me this late?"

"I don't know…answer it and find out."

Santana stared at the phone until it silenced. She looked up at Rachel who bit her lip out of nervousness. The phone gave a short buzz, the screen showing 1 VOICE MESSAGE.

The taller brunette stared in silence at the phone.

"Aren't you at least curious?"

"I can't…," she handed the phone to Rachel, "You listen."

Rachel unlocked the screen and pushed play, holding the phone to her ear. As the message played, her bright brown eyes grew wide.

"What…?" Santana was almost too afraid for the answer.

"The police called her tonight…," Rachel said, her voice shaking, "They have Karofsky in custody."

* * *

><p>"Santana…stop!" Rachel hollered down the stairs.<p>

Santana didn't know what to do or where to go, her mind was racing so fast. She opened the front door and stepped down the pebbled path into the grass of the Berrys' front yard before Rachel was able to catch up to her.

"Santana…calm down and talk to me," the shorter brunette insisted.

Santana dropped to her knees in the plush grass, her shoulders sinking as her emotions overtook her.

Rachel kneeled down next to the young Latina, putting her arms around Santana from behind. She held her tightly until the larger girl's tears slowed.

"This sucks…I just got to where he wasn't in my head all the time," Santana cried.

"I'm so sorry…," Rachel comforted her, caressing her long black hair.

"Now I'm going to be put back through all that."

Rachel didn't know what to say. "Here's your phone back if you want to call Brittany."

"She's already asleep," Santana sat the rest of the way to the ground, pulling her knees up and laying her head against them.

"Do you want to call your mom back?"

"No…that would just make me feel worse."

"What can I do to help?"

"Just go back inside, I guess…and let me sit here for awhile."

"Are you sure?" Rachel wished she could do more for her.

Santana squeezed the smaller girl's hand, and said, "Thanks, Rach…I'll be in a little bit."

Rachel patted her tenderly on the shoulder as she stood to leave. Santana heard the front door close behind her, and she started crying again. She wiped at her eyes with the tips of her fingers then looked down at the phone in her hand. She unlocked the screen and dialed Brittany, hoping she would hear it and pick up. The phone rang several times before it went to voice mail.

"Damn it…," Santana said aloud. Her thoughts spinning in her head.

She scrolled through her phone's missed calls and saw her mom's cell number. She stared at it, contemplating the pros and cons of calling her back. Santana wasn't sure if she wanted more information about Karofsky at this point. _Fuck…why didn't he just fall of the face of the earth_, she screamed internally.

Santana needed something to ground the thoughts that were threatening to completely take over her sanity. With one last try to reach out for a safety-net, she scrolled through her contacts until she found a phone number. She paused a second then pushed the call button.

After three rings, the voice answered. "Hello?"

"I need you."

* * *

><p>Santana pulled up on the handle to open the door and stepped up into the truck, closing the door behind her.<p>

"Where to?" Puck asked.

"Just drive…_please_," she pleaded as she buckled her seatbelt.

Puck turned the radio up and drove away from the curb in front of the Berry house.

Santana buzzed the passenger window down to breathe in the windy air as Puck drove the streets of Lima. She didn't know what to verbalize at this point, but she didn't trust herself to be alone with her thoughts…not tonight.

Puck glanced over at his former girlfriend several times as he drove. He didn't know what made the Latina call on him, but he knew it had to be serious if she came to him. He left the party he was at as soon as she called, driving over to Rachel's house and finding Santana sitting on the porch when he pulled up.

He reached over and opened the glove compartment, easily putting his hand on a small, glass bottle of Jack Daniels whiskey.

"Drink?"

Santana took it from him, holding it up to see what kind of liquor it was, incredibly thankful it wasn't Johnnie Walker scotch, then unscrewed the top and took a long swig. "Thank you," she told him, screwing the plastic top on it and handing it back to him.

"That all you want?" he smiled at her, looking back at the road ahead.

She nodded, "For now."

She leaned further toward the opened window, feeling the cool breeze on her face, calming her back down as the heat of the strong liquid moved through her body.

"Rough night?"

"Yeah."

"I don't have any happy sticks to smoke tonight…sorry," he said with a wink in her direction.

"It's ok…that's not why I called."

"Why did you call?"

She paused, internally assessing why she did. "I just needed someone who understands me."

Puck laughed loudly. "Then you called the wrong person, Lopez."

Santana looked at him, his words stinging harsher than he intended, and she started crying again.

"Whoa…I'm sorry, hon…you know I love you," he put his large palm on her thigh and squeezed it.

"It's not you, Puck…just ignore me," she tried to laugh it off.

Puck turned into the parking lot of a park, pulling into a parking space that was near a tall, green lamppost. He rolled down his driver's window then turned off the ignition and unbuckled his seatbelt.

Turning toward Santana, he said, "…Talk to me."

She unbuckled her shoulder belt and fell into his chest, crying harder.

He held her for several moments, with his hand firmly on the back of her head for support.

"Karofsky's back," she finally told him.

"God fucking damn it…I should have taken him out long ago…that fucking asshole," Puck's anger flew out of him.

"Puck…_**please**_," Santana tried to calm him, "I don't need you going all vigilante on me…that's not helping!"

"You're right…I'm sorry…," he calmed slightly.

Santana looked up at him, forcing a smile.

"I just…I mean…it took everything in me not to beat his brains out of his head when I found out he **raped you**," he emphasized out of frustration.

Santana fell back against his chest, wrapping her thin arms around his waist, sobbing.

"What…? What did I say?"

"Just hearing someone else say it out loud…," she choked out.

"I have been cursing myself ever since it happened…that somehow I should have protected you," he said sadly, squeezing her tightly.

Santana couldn't get control of her emotions. She wished it had been possible for _anyone_ to change the course of events on that night.

"I can just remember seeing him in the parking lot that night as we were leaving…fucking bastard with his fucking, dumb-ass crown."

"Stop, Puck…you had no way to know what had happened," she told him, sitting back up and wiping at her face.

"I'm so sorry that happened to you, San…I really am."

"Thank you," she said, her voice quivering, "I'm just so scared of facing him again…that I…I just don't know what to do."

He put his arm around her shoulders and leaned her back into him, kissing her on top of her head, "You won't be alone this time."

* * *

><p>"Stop fidgeting," Quinn said.<p>

"Sorry…," Santana responded as she walked next to the former-head Cheerio.

"You're making _me_ nervous," the blonde told her.

"Sorry…," Santana tugged at the hem of her black, button-up shirt as the pair passed between two parked cars, stepping up on the sidewalk outside The Lima Bean, "Thank you for coming with me, Q."

"No problem…I'm really glad you decided to get out of the house tonight."

Santana paused at the glass door of the coffee house entrance, so Quinn reached around her and opened the door, shaking her head and pushing her skittish friend inside.

The interior of The Lima Bean had been transformed for the evening's open mic night. Some of the wood tables and chairs were still set up as usual, but the majority of the tables were missing and the chairs had been pushed toward a small, raised stage in the back corner of the coffee house. Quinn was surprised at the number of mostly-young people who were there, some talking and laughing at tables with their friends, a few standing around the perimeter of the room, and others seated in the rows of chairs near the stage.

Santana shifted her stance from one black boot to the other, looking around the room for a familiar face. The dark-haired beauty smile broadly and grabbed Quinn by the hand when she spotted Cate talking to a group of girls at a table nearest the stage. "There she is…come on," Santana said.

As the two Glee Club members walked up to the older girls, Cate recognized Santana and waved, "Hey there!

Santana pulled Quinn by the arm as she circled around to the side of the table where Cate stood.

"I'm so glad you made it…," Cate turned toward her friends, "…everyone, this is Santana...who I was telling you about."

Santana gave them a smile and small wave.

"Santana..this is everyone…," Cate leaned to smile directly at Quinn, "Hi…are you the girlfriend?"

Quinn giggled, "No…I'm just a friend."

Cate stuck out her hand, "I'm Cate."

"Quinn," the blonde shook it. Quinn noticed that the tall brunette had a firm handshake, and even in the lowered lights of the coffee house, that she had crystal blue eyes.

"Cate…we're about to get started…," a small red-haired girl tapped her on the back.

"Oh, Santana…Quinn…this is Marisa…she's who I play for…," the tall girl told them.

"Nice to meet," Santana and Quinn replied.

"I'm thrilled you came…Cate was really hoping you would, Santana," the small singer smiled broadly at Cate.

Cate smiled back and pushed both her hands into the back pockets of her tight black jeans, squirming slightly.

"Looks like there are only four of us singing tonight," Marisa gestured toward the stage being set up, "…but we're up first…and I know the guy who is going last…he covers a lot of Elliot Smith and is amazing."

"Oh?" Quinn spoke up excitedly, "I love Elliot Smith's music."

"Well…I really hope you enjoy it," Marisa smiled then turned and moved back toward the stage.

"Ok, I've gotta go," Cate turned to the side to pull a couple of empty chairs from another table, "here…these ladies will move over and let you two squeeze in."

Another tall girl stood to take the chairs from Cate, pushing the chairs up to the round table, "I'm Jordan...that's Dani…Becca…and Robyn there."

Each of the girls said hi and shifted their chairs to make room for Santana and Quinn to join them as the sound of Cate warming up with some guitar chords could be heard through the coffee house.

A young guy stepped up to the microphone and tapped it a couple of times, "Can you guys hear me?"

The lively crowd answered yes.

"Ok, we're glad to have the summer open mic night back again. And starting us off tonight is Marisa Davis," the young guy looked down at a small white sheet in his hand, "…Marisa is currently a junior at Lima Community College. I know I enjoyed seeing Marisa in LCC's performance of Chicago this past semester so we're happy to have her here to sing for us tonight."

Marisa stepped up on the stage as the audience clapped for her, settling herself up on a black stool and lowering the microphone stand slightly. "Thank you," she smiled, "And a big thank you to Cate Boyd for accompanying me on guitar tonight."

The table of Cate's friends broke into loud applause, causing Santana and Quinn to laugh and clap too.

Cate shifted on the stool she was sitting, lowering her head to hide her amusement, fingering the strings of her guitar lightly until the crowd quieted.

"This first song is a cover of Brandi Carlile's song, Dying Day…," Marisa said, followed by Cate's beginning the notes of the song.

_I left home a long long time ago  
>In a tin can for the road<br>With a suitcase and some songs  
>Chasing miles through the night time<br>Making tracks with no time for looking back  
>To the place where I belong<em>

_How these days grow long  
>But I'm on my way back home<br>It's been hard to be away  
>How I miss you and I just want to kiss you<br>And I'm gonna love you till my dying day  
>How these days grow long<em>

_When you're sad you know I wish I could be there  
>To make your sorrows disappear<br>And set your troubles free  
>It's not fair for me to be this far from you<br>But I promise to stay true, wherever I might be_

_Time keeps burning  
>The wheels keep on turning<br>Sometimes I feel I'm wasting my days  
>How I miss you and I just want to kiss you<br>And I'm gonna love you till my dying day  
>How these days grow long<br>Time keeps burning on  
>How these days grow long<em>

_Now I'm lost in a sea of sunken dreams  
>While the sound of drunken screams echos in the night<br>But I know all of this will come to pass  
>And I'll be with you at last forever by your side<em>

_How these days grow long  
>But I'm on my way back home<br>It's been hard to be away  
>How I miss you and I just want to kiss you<br>And I'm gonna love you till my dying day__  
><em>

As the song ended, the energetic audience applauded.

Santana reached up to discreetly wipe at a tear that formed, the sentiment behind the lyrics causing her to think of Brittany, missing her even more.

"She's good," Santana whispered to Quinn, impressed with Marisa's vocals.

"Cate is _really _good too," Quinn said in return, clapping enthusiastically as she watched Cate Boyd strum her guitar.

* * *

><p>Santana pushed open the back door of The Lima Bean, wanting to get some fresh air and enjoy some quiet for a moment to collect her emotions. She pulled her phone out of the front pocket on her jeans, hoping to see a text from Brittany. Instead there was a text from her mother: You need to meet us at the district attorney's office in the morning. 2208 Montfort Ave., 10 am. no excuses!<p>

Her breathing instantly became shallow as she fumbled with the buttons on her phone, selecting the first contact on her favorite's list.

"Calm down, Santana…," she told herself aloud as the number rang several times on the other end of the phone.

"Hi, this is Brittany…I can't take your call so leave a message…thanks!" Santana listened to the familiar voice on the recording, waiting for the auto-beep then said, "Hey, love…I just really needed to hear your voice. If you have a chance when you get this, please call me back tonight. I miss you. I love you."

She locked her phone and slid it back into the pocket of her light-washed, skinny jeans. She stood in place a moment, her thoughts wandering.

"Are you taking any summer classes?" a voice asked.

Santana moved from the doorway to see Jordan sitting on the curb near a green dumpster, smoking a cigarette, looking up at her. Santana noticed under the light of the parking lot lamp that the girl was very thin, almost boney. She had jet black hair with underlying streaks of hot pink, several colorful tattoos on both arms that were visible under the short-sleeves of her black, v-neck t-shirt, and a silver piercing in the center of her bottom lip.

"What?" Santana was confused.

"At LCC…?"

"Oh no…I don't go there…I'm still in high school," Santana clarified.

"Ohhhh…interesting," the girl said, patting the cement of the curb next to her, "Join me."

"Why is that interesting?" Santana asked as she folded her legs and sat down on the ground.

"No reason…," Jordan said, holding out a cigarette, "…smoke?"

"Thanks," Santana gratefully accepted the offer, taking a long drag then blowing out the smoke before handing it back to the girl.

"Keep it…," Jordan told her, leaning back on her outstretched arms and crossing her ankles in front of her.

Santana took another puff, feeling some of her anxiety lifting with the familiarity of the nicotine flowing in her body.

"You ever shoot pool?"

"Not really," Santana wasn't sure where that question came from.

"So…like…never?" Jordan teased.

Santana shook her head.

"You should learn?"

"Why?"

"Cause it's a skill every lesbian should have."

"Ok…you're like the second person in two days who has assumed at first glance that I'm a lesbian."

"Aren't you?"

"Well…yeah."

"What's the problem then?"

Santana shrugged, taking the final drag off the cigarette then crushed it out on the curb under her.

"Embrace the gay, Santana."

"You're really abrasive…you know that?"

"Yeah, everyone tells me that," Jordan laughed.

"Well, I used to be like that too…it caused me a lot of shit in the end."

"Hmm…you think so, eh?"

"I know so…," she said reflectively.

"Well, I guess my charm does take some time to rub off on people," she self-chided.

"I'm not sure I've got _that much_ time," Santana retorted.

Jordan laughed again, "Cate hated me at first too…but then we ended up dating."

"You two dated?"

"Yeah…for over a year," she told her, "…we lived together the last two months we were together."

"Guess you're even _worse_ to live with," Santana quipped.

"Oh, you're a riot, kiddo…," Jordan pushed her shoulder playfully, "I think I've decided that I like you."

* * *

><p>Author's note: I didn't get as much territory covered in this chapter as I anticipated, so you guys will have to stick around for Chapter 11. Please keep the reviews and comments and private messages coming, because I truly appreciate everything you all have to say. Thanks! KB<p> 


	11. Chapter 11

**Her Smile Heals Me **(part 11)

Quinn finished washing her hands then pulled two white paper towels out of the wall-mounted dispenser, wiping her hands dry and tossing the used towels into the trash bin. She pushed open the restroom door with one of her elbows and walked up the hallway toward the open area of the coffee house.

The lights had already been turned back up to full brightness, and most of the patrons had cleared out. A couple of The Lima Bean employees were resetting the tables and chairs for Saturday morning's typical breakfast crowd. Quinn scanned the interior for a sight of Santana. The Latina had left toward the end of the last set to go to the restroom but never returned to their table.

"Hey," Cate said in Quinn's direction. The tall brunette was snapping shut the latches on her black guitar case.

Quinn smiled at her and gave a quick wave. Cate stood up and closed the distance between them. "Did you enjoy the music tonight?" she asked.

"Yeah, I did," Quinn confirmed with a broader smile, "I need to do more stuff like this…who knew there was this much talent in Lima, Ohio."

"There were some good voices here tonight…but other open mic nights, not so much," Cate joked.

"Well, I was impressed, particularly with Marisa's set…_and_ your playing."

"Thanks…I love playing guitar, since I was in junior high…," the taller girl blushed and smiled, "Just give me my guitar and a good book…and I can entertain myself for hours on end."

"I'm the same way…sometimes I have to remind myself that there's a world outside my books," Quinn said with a melancholy overtone.

"What book are you reading right now?" Cate inquired energetically.

"I just started Room by Emma Donoghue a couple of days ago…and I'm already half-way through it."

"Oh my god…I just finished that one!" Cate responded excitedly.

"It's so creepy and scary…I couldn't put it down last night," Quinn revealed, with a laugh, "Then I couldn't sleep because it was so creepy and scary…so I just ended up reading more of it until I finally just fell unconscious in the middle of the night."

"I've done the same thing…," Cate shared Quinn's laugh, "You know they're making it into a movie, right?"

"No, I hadn't heard anything about that."

"They are…so the author is on a book-signing tour in the States…," Cate informed her, "She's going to be in Ohio this weekend actually…and I was thinking of going to hear her speak about the book tomorrow night…would you want to join me?"

"Ah, that's quite the challenge you're putting before me…," Quinn shifted her stance, thinking.

Cate's light blue eyes narrowed and her brow furrowed, trying to figure out Quinn's hesitance.

"I'll have to hurry home to finish the book tonight …but yeah, I'd love to meet her…," Quinn announced.

"Awesome…," Cate grinned, "I can pick you up if that works for you."

"That sounds great…do you have your phone?"

Cate pulled out her phone from her back pocket and unlocked it, scrolling until she had a new contact page pulled open. Quinn took the phone from her, "May I?"

Cate smiled, "Go ahead."

The blonde typed into the contact page QUINN F. and her phone number then she pushed save, handing the phone back to Cate. "There you go…just text…or call me…with the details," she told the brunette.

"Great…," Cate happily saved the info and slide the phone back down in her jeans.

"I need to find Santana so we can go," Quinn said, "Have you seen her recently?"

"Have you tried out back?"

Quinn hung her small red purse over her shoulder and turned toward the coffee house's back wall. She pushed open the back door to step out into the Ohio June night with Cate right behind her, guitar case in hand.

The girls saw Jordan and Santana sitting on the opened tailgate of a small, maroon truck, talking and laughing.

"What's going on, you two?" Cate asked as she and Quinn walked up.

"Nothing…," Jordan responded, hanging her arm around Santana's shoulders, "…just hanging out with my new buddy here."

"Santana…we need to go," Quinn told her friend, unsure about the vibe which she was picking up from the black-haired, older girl.

"Ok…," Santana slid out of the bed of the truck, turning back around to wave at Cate and Jordan, "…thanks again!"

"See ya, kid…," Jordan winked, smiling toward Cate who just shook her head and rolled her eyes.

* * *

><p>Quinn started her car's ignition as the teens buckled their seatbelts. As Quinn pulled her Volkswagen Jetta out onto the main street, Santana leaned to turn up the radio, hearing that it was one of her new favorites.<p>

"I love this song…" she told Quinn.

As the girls drove, Adele's voice sang **Someone Like You**…

…_I hate to turn up out of the blue uninvited,_  
><em>But I couldn't stay away, I couldn't fight it,<em>  
><em>I'd hoped you'd see my face and that you'd be reminded,<em>  
><em>That for me, it isn't over yet.<em>

_Nevermind, I'll find someone like you._  
><em>I wish nothing but the best for you too.<em>  
><em>Don't forget me, I begged, I remember you said,<em>  
><em>Sometimes it lasts in love, but sometimes it hurts instead, yeah.<em>

_Nothing compares, no worries or cares._  
><em>Regrets and mistakes, they're memories made.<em>  
><em>Who would have known how bittersweet this would taste?<em>

Quinn reached her hand up quickly and switched off the radio, leaving the inside of the car silent.

"Why'd you turn it off?" Santana asked with slight irritation and confusion.

"It's too sad…I can't listen to that," the blonde told her.

"It's heartfelt…," Santana defended.

"More like…_gut-wrenching_," Quinn said sadly.

"It's a beautiful song, Quinn."

"Well, you've already found the love of your life…I'm sure that makes life easy for you."

"Oh yeah…no, you're right, Quinn…my life is sooooo much easier than everyone else's…thanks for the reminder," the Latina retorted sarcastically, crossing her arms over her chest and turning to look out the window.

"At least you're not alone," the former head Cheerio added quietly.

Santana turned to look at Quinn, seeing a tear fall from her eye and roll down her cheek. The brunette's heart suddenly ached for her dear friend. She reached over and put her hand over Quinn's as it rested on the black, leather steering wheel, squeezing it supportively.

"You're not either, Q…," she assured her.

The girls rode further in silence then Santana heard her cell phone buzz in her jeans pocket.

Santana pulled it out, putting it to her ear, "Hello?"

"Hey there…I got your message," Brittany told her, "You sounded upset."

"Hey, babe…," Santana suddenly felt a calm move through her from hearing Brittany's voice, "…thanks for calling me back tonight."

"What's going on?"

"My mom's making me go to a meeting in the morning with the district attorney."

Quinn looked over at the Latina with concern on her face.

"Do you think your parents will be there?"

"I think so…I don't know which is worse…talking about what happened to me to strangers…or seeing them."

"Well, sweetheart…whatever happens…just remember that I love you, ok?"

"Yeah…," Santana smiled.

* * *

><p>Santana looked up at the silver-strip of numbers as they lit up sequentially in red. Second Floor. Third Floor. Her stomach muscles tightened in a knot as the elevator approached floor six. She shifted her weight from one sandal to her other one and self-consciously flattened her blue-flowered, cotton sundress.<p>

"You'll do fine, honey…just be clear and concise…," Daniel Berry reminded Santana of their previously-discussed game plan, patting her left shoulder.

She was almost as tall as him, but she tilted her head and smiled, grateful he offered up his lawyer services in addition to a ride to her meeting downtown this morning. Rachel took her by the right hand and squeezed it in support as the elevator dinged its arrival on the sixth floor.

_Here we go_, Santana thought to herself as the elevator doors slid open and the trio step out into the sixth floor corridor. The girls followed behind Daniel who rounded a corner and moved up a hallway toward a frosted-glass door. He opened it for the teens to enter, allowing it to close behind him. Santana looked down at her silver watch…9:52am…as Daniel walked up to a middle-aged woman who was seated behind a government-standard, brown desk.

"Santana Lopez…10:00 appointment," Daniel told the woman whose hand went to her black, plastic mouse, clicking as she moved it across a mouse pad with a picture of Vincent van Gogh's Starry Night.

"You'll be meeting with ADA Cole in the third conference room on the left…go on down there…they are already in there," she instructed.

Daniel nodded and smiled politely while ushering Santana toward the hallway. "Rach, sweetie…take a seat out here for now," Rachel's father told her.

Santana turned to look back at her, a look of fear on her beautiful, tanned face.

"You'll do great," Rachel encouraged the Latina with a wink.

Santana returned a hesitant smile then walked with Daniel down the hall to the third door on the left which was closed. Daniel knocked lightly then pushed down on the silver handle to open it.

"Hello…," Daniel said ahead of Santana's entrance.

Seated in the conference room already were Santana's parents along with a young woman who had a yellow legal pad and a blue file-folder opened in front of her and a man who was in his early thirties. The man had sandy-blond hair, black-framed glasses, and he was wearing khakis and a teal blue polo shirt, leaning back in his chair with his left loafer resting casually up on his right thigh.

Daniel held the door opened so that Santana could enter the room. She subconsciously hesitated as she saw her mother and father.

The younger man stood up and stuck out his hand, "Santana? Hi, I'm Assistant District Attorney Eric Cole…it's nice to meet you…please have a seat."

Santana gave him a limp handshake, turning to look at Daniel for comfort and for direction.

Daniel gave her a supportive smile then stuck out his hand as ADA Cole turned toward him. "Daniel…good to see you again. You remember my paralegal, Claudia."

The young woman looked up and smiled politely, looking back down at her legal pad and clicking her black, Pilot pen to the ready position.

"And these are Santana's parents…," ADA Cole started to introduce them.

"Oh yes, we are all familiar with each other…our daughters go to school together."

"Hi, Daniel," Mrs. Lopez said flatly.

The choices of chairs were the far end of the table or next to her mother so Santana pushed past the ADA to sit at the far end. Daniel followed her, sitting in the chair to the right of Mrs. Lopez. Santana was fidgeting nervously and looking down at the table, avoiding eye contact with her parents.

"Ok, well…let's go ahead and get started…Santana, just to make you aware…we will be recording this meeting," ADA Cole stated.

Claudia pushed the record button on a large, black recording device sitting in the center of the conference table.

"It is Saturday, June 11th…2011…it is 10:10am…This is Assistant District Attorney Eric Cole…here with Claudia Douglass…this is an official interview with Santana Lopez, whose parents and attorney, Daniel Berry, are also present," ADA Cole spoke loudly and clearly, "…Santana, would you please state and spell your name for the record."

Santana cleared her throat and leaned into the table to speak toward the recorder, "Santana Lopez. S-a-n-t-a-n-a L-o-p-e-z."

Daniel watched the teen, her hands shaking, then looked over at her parents. Dr. Lopez sat stoned-faced at the other end of the table between his wife and Claudia, looking only at the ADA. Mrs. Lopez sat quietly, looking around the table, with a look of concern on her face.

"Thank you, Santana. As you probably know already, our detectives were able to track down David Karofsky and his parents in Houston, Texas…so this interview is very important because he has been extradited back to Ohio and is currently in custody. There will be a bail hearing Monday morning."

"What does that mean…bail hearing? He could get out?" Santana interrupted.

"It's unlikely with him being such a flight risk…so I don't want you to worry about that right now, ok?" ADA Cole assured her, "His attorney will want to conduct a deposition soon so we need to have a clear understanding of the facts."

"What's a deposition?" Santana looked at Daniel, "I don't understand what any of this means."

"Santana…stop interrupting so we can listen to what Mr. Cole is telling us," Dr. Lopez scolded her.

Daniel spoke up, "Eric, would you mind pausing the recording for a moment?"

ADA Cole nodded toward Claudia who reached to stop the recording.

"Thank you. I imagine this entire process is confusing and overwhelming to anyone in Santana's situation…but for a child, I'm sure it is quite frightening…so let's please try to keep that in mind as we jump through the necessary hoops here," Daniel stated.

"She's not a child," Dr. Lopez clarified, "In fact, she has been very bold lately in asserting her independence from her mother and me…**and** in promoting her _adult_ lifestyle."

Santana swallowed hard and closed her eyes, trying to keep herself from getting upset and crying in front of everyone in the room.

"I'm not going to argue semantics with you…Santana is still a minor…she is the victim of a violent crime…and she has recently been through a lot of turmoil…," Daniel added the last point with emphasis, looking over at Santana's parents, "…let's all agree to work together to preserve her emotional well being as much as possible under the circumstances."

"How dare you imply that I don't have my daughter's best interest in mind," Dr. Lopez said loudly, his temper flaring.

"Did you when you threw her out of her home?" Daniel fired back.

"Gentlemen…let's calm down," Eric interjected, gesturing with his hands that they settle down.  
>Santana could not hold it together any longer, pushing back from the table and quickly moving toward the door. She ran down the hallway, past Rachel reading a magazine in the lobby, and opened the door to the corridor.<p>

Rachel set down her magazine and grabbed her purse as her father followed behind the emotional Latina. "What's going on?" she asked him.

Without answering, Daniel Berry moved quickly up the exterior hallway toward the elevators.

"Santana…wait!" he hollered as he rounded the corner, "Stop!"

Santana pushed the already-lit down button again, mentally willing it to arrive quicker. "I can't do this…I'm sorry, Daniel."

"What happened?" Rachel asked, stepping up behind them.

"I hate them!" Santana said, breaking into tears.

"Who?" the shorter brunette asked.

"My parents…my_ father_…," she reached to push the lit button again, "He's such an arrogant asshole."

Daniel moved closer and put his arms around her as she broke into a sob. Rachel wrapped her arms around Santana from behind.

"Santana…?" an almost meek-sounding female's voice said.

The young Latina looked up to see her mother approaching the trio. The elevator doors opened then shut again after a few seconds. Rachel stepped to the side of the hallway to stand back with her dad.

"I'm sorry you're so upset," Mrs. Lopez walked up to the young brunette.

"I'm fine…I just want to go home…I mean…I just want to get out of here," Santana corrected herself.

"How have you been doing?" her mother asked.

"I'm _swell_, Mom…thanks for your concern," Santana said sarcastically.

Her mother took a deep breath before reaching her arms out to her daughter, but Santana turned away from her to face the elevators again.

"I have wanted to call you…often," Mrs. Lopez confessed.

"I haven't had any missed calls from you," Santana retorted harshly.

"I understand that you're angry."

"Yeah, I'm angry…why wouldn't I be?"

"You never cashed the check I sent."

"You can't buy me off…to make your conscience feel better about what you're doing to me."

"It wasn't meant as that, Santana…I sent it to help you."

"Well, I have my own money now…I don't need Dad's money anymore."

"How are you getting around without your car?" her mother inquired.

"It's funny, Mom…you guys actually taught me a valuable lesson by taking it away from me," Santana looked over at Rachel and her dad, "I learned that I have amazing people in my life…if I just open my eyes and look around me."

"I'm glad you have such great friends," Mrs. Lopez said.

"Yeah…who accept me as I am."

* * *

><p>Quinn pulled the sleeves of her yellow sweater down further to cover her cold hands and shifted herself in the passenger's seat to look over at Cate who was telling her about a philosophy in literature class she was taking at Lima Community College.<p>

"Are you cold?" Cate asked, noticing Quinn's body language, "I can turn the heat on if it'd help?"

"Oh no, I'm fine…really," Quinn assured her, "Go on…I'm fascinated."

"Well…it involves both literary and philosophical reflections on human flourishing in the twentieth century," Cate explained as she drove, "It's only offered in the summer semesters…so that's why I'm enrolled this summer."

"Is that the only class you're taking?"

"No, even though I'm working right now, I'm also squeezing in my logics class to get my last math core requirement out of the way so I can complete my transfer request," the brunette told her.

"Oh, you're transferring?" Quinn asked, "…to where?"

"Well…that's my plan anyway…I'm not sure it'll work out, but I'm going to try to move to a full college by next spring semester," Cate revealed.

"Which college did you have in mind?" Quinn inquired.

"Smith College in Northampton, Massachusetts is my first choice."

"That's an all girls college…isn't it?"

"Yes…my aunt went there…she graduate several years ago, but I can remember visiting her with my mom," Cate recalled, "She would always take me to see Emily Dickinson's house which is nearby."

"I love Emily Dickinson!" Quinn stated enthusiastically.

"Hope is the thing with feathers, that perches in the soul, and…," Cate quoted the poet.

"… sings the tune without the words, and never stops at all," Quinn chimed in, finishing the line from the poem.

Cate glanced over and smiled at Quinn who smiled back before looking down at her hands in her lap.

"What made you start out at LCC?" the younger girl wondered aloud.

"Ahh…long story for a longer car ride," Cate joked, "…suffice it to say…I went way off the academic track my freshman and sophomore years in high school, so my grades suffered…I wasn't able to catch up my GPA enough to apply."

Quinn looked over at the tall girl as she drove them toward Quinn's house.

"Once I decided I was done searching for myself…and that my fantasy of touring the world in a girls' rock band was exactly that…a _fantasy_…I decided to try the community college route in hopes of transferring at some point," Cate explained, "…just trying to break out of Lima somehow, you know?"

"Oh yeah…I definitely know that desire," Quinn said sadly.

Cate watched the blonde out of the corner of her eye as the small truck fell silent. "So what's your story…Quinn F.?"

Quinn laughed at Cate's attempt at lightening the moment. "It's F for Fabray," she told her, remembering how she entered her name in Cate's contacts, "…and my story is one of going way off track too sophomore year…though I don't know that I've found my way back yet."

"Believe it or not…I can listen as well as I can talk…," Cate smiled at her.

Quinn paused and took a deep settling breath. "I got pregnant my sophomore year."

"Oh, wow…so you have a baby?" Cate was intrigued.

"_Had_ a baby…yes…," Quinn clarified, "I gave her up for adoption."

In the brief light of a passing, oncoming car's headlights, Cate could see the anguish on Quinn's face. She reached over and put her hand on Quinn's cotton-covered hand and squeezed it gently. "I'm sorry you had to go through that, Quinn."

"Me too…," Quinn confessed.

"I think it's one of the bravest, most selfless decisions a mother can make…," Cate told her, "…it's like giving life _twice_ to your child."

"I hope she sees it that way when she's grown," Quinn's voice quivered at the sentiment.

"I think she will…I'm adopted…and that's how I feel about it," the brunette revealed.

"You're adopted?" Quinn asked with subtle shock in her voice.

"Yes, and I am thankful to my birth mother for loving me and being strong enough to put me in a better situation…and to my parents for raising me in a supportive home…," Cate continued, with a small laugh, "…though I know I've been quite the challenge to my mom and dad."

Quinn put her other hand over the top of Cate's hand, consciously realizing at last that they had been riding for a few minutes holding hands.

Cate pulled back her other hand as she made one last turn to pull the truck slowly into Quinn's driveway, putting it in park.

"Thank you for inviting me to go with you tonight," the teen told the older girl as she unbuckle her seatbelt.

"Emma Donoghue was so cool, wasn't she?" Cate asked, turning off the truck's ignition and unbuckling her shoulder strap too, "…and I love her accent…I could listen to it all night."

"Yes, she was very interesting…but I meant thank you…to _you_…for talking to me…for getting _me_ to talk…about…stuff…," Quinn made the distinction, "…I don't usually open up about things…but I don't know…with _you_…well, I've really enjoyed talking to you tonight."

"Me too…," Cate shifted in the seat to turn toward Quinn, "…sooo…would you want to do something again some night?"

"Yeah…I really would."

"They're showing Garbo films this coming week at the old theater downtown…would that interest you?"

Quinn didn't hesitate, excited at the suggestion, "Yes, that sounds wonderful…especially if they're showing Grand Hotel."

Cate laughed, "They are actually…Tuesday night."

"I'm there then," Quinn smiled broadly.

"Great! I'll look forward to it."

Quinn nodded as a pause hung inside the small space of the truck.

Cate leaned forward and placed a small but tender kiss on Quinn's lips, pulling back and smiling, "I'll call you, ok?"

Quinn smiled back, quickly opening the car door, sliding out and shutting it behind her. She turned for a brief second and waved back at Cate who restarted the truck. As the blonde opened her front door with her key, Cate started backing out of the driveway. Quinn looked back at the truck one last time before stepping inside and shutting the front door. The teen leaned back against the wood of the door, her stomach fluttering as if a dozen butterflies had been let loose inside it. She shut her eyes tight and took a deep, calming breath, pulling her right hand up to her lips, touching them lightly and wondering to herself…_what the hell just happened_?

* * *

><p>Santana was sound asleep when she heard her phone start buzzing loudly against the wood of her bed's side table. She forced her eyes opened at the same time as she reached out her hand to grab the phone.<p>

"Hello?" she said groggily, putting the cell phone up to her ear.

"San…?"

"Quinn?" the brunette asked, still half-asleep.

"I'm so sorry I woke you…but…um…I _have_ to talk to you…right now."

"Ok…talk."

"No…I need to talk to you outside."

"Outside where?"

"Outside your house…please come downstairs."

"What?"

"Santana…wake up! I'm in my car in the driveway…please come down before I have a mental breakdown."

"Ok, ok…I have to pee first…then I'll be down," the Latina told her, "…you're not going to slit your wrists in the next five minutes, are you?"

"That's not funny…just hurry…_please_," Quinn pleaded.

Santana locked her phone and rubbed the remaining sleep from her eyes then found her flip-flops in the dark of the room. After a quick trip past the guest bathroom, she quietly stepped down the Berry staircase and moved toward the front door. Gently unlocking and closing it behind her, she zipped her black hoodie all the way up against the night breeze while walking up to Quinn's Jetta.

"What's the emergency?" Santana asked followed by a huge yawn as she slid into the passenger seat and closed the door behind her.

"I'm pretty sure I was on a date tonight."

"Ok…and…congrats?"

Quinn drew in a gulp of air, "I think I have another date for this week."

"Q…I've had a shit-ass day…so this story better get more interesting, quick like…or I'm going back to bed."

"…With a girl."

Santana uncrossed her arms and sat up in the seat, turning toward Quinn with wide eyes, "…well, I'm definitely awake now."

Quinn stared at her with a confused look in her eyes, not knowing what more to say.

"Ok…who's the girl?" Santana asked with awe.

"Cate."

"Wait, what?"

"And…she kissed me tonight."

Santana sat with her mouth opened but nothing coming out.

"Yeah, that's pretty much where I am right now too," the blonde confessed.

The Latina shook her head to clear her thoughts. "Did you like it?" Santana finally asked.

Quinn paused before saying, "…yeah…I think I did."

"Holy…fuck…," Santana smiled and crossed her arms back over her chest, "Quinn Fabray."

"Don't make fun, San…that's not what I need right now."

"I'm not making fun…I'm just…like…wow."

"I don't know what it is about her…she's amazing," Quinn tried to formulate her spinning thoughts into a coherent description, "She's so intelligent…and we share all the same interests…I mean, she knows about literature…and philosophy…and poetry…and classic movies…and all kinds of music…seriously…I could talk to her for hours and never get bored…I don't know, San…I've never felt this before."

"I think it's great, Q…really, really great."

"I don't know what this means…I'm so…incredibly…confused."

Santana put a supportive hand on Quinn's forearm. "Does it have to mean _anything_?" the brunette said simply, "…right now anyway…other than you having a wonderful person in your life to share things with?"

"But…I don't know what might happen if I'm around her again…and I don't know what to do with those thoughts," the blonde confessed.

"You think too much, Quinn…," Santana told her, "…stop thinking so much…and just let yourself feel something…and just let that guide you."

Quinn took a shaky breath, the butterflies in her stomach replaced by a huge knot, "…yeah…maybe."

* * *

><p>Author's note: I hope everyone read this section with an open mind. Please be sure to let me know your thoughts, but if you are not quite sure what you think about recent developments, I hope you'll trust my instincts on certain aspects of this story. As always, I appreciate each one of you! Thanks, KB<p> 


	12. Chapter 12

**Author's note:** I apologize for taking so long to post this chapter. To be honest with you all, this is the second version of chapter 12. I erased the first version, because I was unhappy with the path it was headed. So I threw it out then took several days to rethink and regroup. That said, I hope you continue to enjoy the journey of Her Smile Heals Me.

**Her Smile Heals Me **(part 12)

by mamatots

Santana had finally drifted into another deep sleep when she heard what sounded like her phone buzzing on the table top again. Through groggy, half-consciousness, she patted around for the sound, finding the cell phone and pulling it to her right ear with a limp hand.

"Hello?" she answered, almost inaudibly.

"Come outside," a voice whispered.

"Quinn?" Santana asked, "I just got back to sleep?"

"Just come outside…," was whispered again.

"Ok," Santana relented, setting the phone back down and easing herself out of bed.

She had no memory of getting there, but she stepped off the front porch and down onto the stone steps, realizing she had forgotten her shoes and hoodie this time. She moved across the driveway which was only half-lit by a motion-detection light affixed to the front of the Berry house, confused when the only car in the driveway belonged to Rachel.

"Quinn?" Santana whispered, looking around the parked car.

Silence.

"It's late, Quinn…this is not funny!" Santana said in a louder but still hushed tone, turning toward the deserted, residential street.

There was sudden movement behind the young Latina as two long arms gently slipped around her from the back, pulling her into an embrace.

"Aaahhh!" Santana startled, turning around instantly to see a very familiar face, "oh my god…Brittany?"

"I scared you…," the blonde said apologetically.

"What are you even doing here?" Santana was very confused, "It's the middle of the night."

"I was worried about you after what happened with your parents today."

"But…your camp…?"

"…can wait a day for me to check on you…shhh…" Brittany put her long index finger up to silence Santana's doubts before pulling her into a deep, exploring kiss.

Santana pulled back to catch her breath, "I've missed you so much, Britt."

"I know, honey…but I've been so proud of you for standing on your own while I've been gone."

"It's been hard…," the brunette looked down at the pavement under her bare feet, seeing that the soft light from the side of the house cast the teens' shadows into the empty part of the driveway, "I don't think I'm strong enough to ever be without you."

Brittany pulled the shorter girl into a tight embrace, resting her chin on the top of Santana's head, "Don't say that…you are stronger than you think you are…with…or _without_ me."

"I don't ever want to find out, ok?"

The two stood a moment in a tight hug as a gentle breeze blew over them. "You're cold…," Brittany said to the Latina, "…you've got goosebumps."

Santana innately shivered once Brittany called attention to her bare arms under her white tank. Her lightweight cotton, pajama shorts provided little more protection.

Brittany moved Santana's raven hair off her exposed shoulder and leaned down to kiss a trail up her neck to behind her ear. She could hear soft moans escape Santana's throat, vibrating under Brittany's continued kisses.

Santana tightened her hold on the blonde's backside, pulling Brittany into her. Their lips met up again, and Santana instantly parted Brittany's lips with her tongue, sliding it deep inside to maneuver around.

Brittany squeezed the Latina even tighter into her, lifting her off the pavement, raising her up to her own height. Santana, caught up in the intensity of their passionate reunion, gave a hop upward at the sensation of being raised off the ground, wrapping her legs around the blonde's waist when Brittany pulled her higher.

Brittany took three steps forward until she could safely set Santana down onto the hood of the car, the brunette's legs dangling down the side, parted by Brittany's body. The two continued to kiss fervently, their hands moving up and down and all around, easily remembering the curves and shapes of each other's bodies. Not able to restrain herself any longer, Brittany reached down and gave a determined tug at the elastic waistband of Santana's pajama bottoms.

The dark-haired beauty lifted her butt as she felt the fabric being taken off her.

"No underwear…?" Brittany paused to ask.

Santana shrugged with a slight grin, "what…? It binds me…you know that."

The tall blonde let the cotton garment fall to the ground, pulling Santana's seated body to the very edge of the hood while kneeling down in front of her. She paused briefly to take in a deep breath of the familiar scent between Santana's thighs, looking up for a slight moment to smile sweetly at the Latina before pressing her face into her wet folds.

Santana leaned back on her arms, pushing herself into Brittany's oral stimulation, and let out a guttural moan as the blonde licked purposefully at her core. Brittany tightened her hold on the Latina's backside, her fingers gripping into the supple flesh for more stability, continuing to lick and suck at Santana's throbbing clit.

"Ohhhh godddd, Britttt…," escaped more loudly than Santana wanted though she really didn't care at the moment what the surrounding circumstances were. Nothing made much sense to the brunette, but she pushed away any thought other than the current pleasure between her legs.

Knowing she had the very excited Latina right where she wanted, Brittany wrapped her left arm further around Santana's hips, freeing the blonde's right hand to push inside Santana. Brittany moved in and out of the brunette while sucking consistently on her most sensitive spot, intermittently running her tongue along the side of her clit, a sensation Brittany knew Santana enjoyed. As Santana's hips started rotating under Brittany's oral stimulation, the blonde pushed in and out even more forcefully, her hand soaked with Santana's wetness.

Brittany vigorously pumped and sucked and licked up and down without stopping until the Latina suddenly placed her hands on the back of the blonde's head to hold her in one spot. "Don't stop, Britt…pleeeease," Santana moaned out her request, locking her ankles around Brittany's back.

Only a few more determined seconds passed before Santana's hips stilled, and she released her firm hold on the blonde's head, her body quivering hard underneath Brittany's efforts. After Santana's orgasm stopped, Brittany stood up and leaned over the brunette's body with her own, pushing her flatter onto the hood's metal surface. Without taking her fingers out, Brittany kissed Santana hard while starting to move again inside her. As the girls moved around on the car, they could hear the hollowness of the hood popping beneath their weight.

Santana took a breath to say, "Rachel is going to kill me if we dent her hood."

"Worry about that later…," Brittany suggested with a breathy voice, returning her lips to Santana's.

The Latina tightened her arms around the blonde, feeling Brittany's hand move deep inside her, making her entire body sizzle with heat. Santana leaned her head back against the metal and moaned loudly again as Brittany bit at the brunette's hardened nipples through the ribbed cotton of her tank.

"Brrrittt…ohhh goddd…," Santana cried out, not caring at the moment who heard her.

"Feel good, baby?" Brittany whispered into Santana's right ear as she lean further into her.

The heat from Brittany's mouth only intensified the sensation that was overtaking Santana's body, "oh god…fuck me, Brittany!"

"You like that, huh?" Brittany said with an even more determined tone.

"Ohhhh yeessss…harder…please…," Santana begged.

"Santana," a voice said from a distance.

Santana ignored it, pulling Brittany tighter into her and using leverage from the blonde's torso to sit herself up on the hood of the car, feeling Brittany's long fingers curve upward with the better angle, arousing the most powerful spot inside her. Just as Santana was approaching the most fulfilling orgasm she'd ever felt, she felt a hand touch her bare shoulder, shaking her slightly.

"Santana…wake up!" the voice said more forcefully.

The young Latina opened her eyes to see Rachel Berry standing over her. "Good morning…I did knock, I swear…_four_ times."

"Huh…?" Santana sat up and looked around her, instantly feeling a void deep within her soul.

"Are you ok…you're very flushed?"

Santana pulled herself upright and raised her hand to her chest, rubbing subconsciously at the lower part of her neck, feeling the remnants of Brittany's lips on her. "Yeah…I guess."

"I hesitated coming in…after _last_ time…," Rachel assured her with an awkward smile.

The taller brunette pulled her knees up toward her chest, still under the cotton sheet of her bed, trying to remember the details her mind had produced in her vivid dream. Santana flushed deeper, small beads of perspiration quickly forming on her upper lip. She looked up at Rachel, feeling rather vulnerable at the moment, as a massive heat deep from inside her groin began to throb. She thought of the beautiful blonde who had evaporated from her embrace which was replaced now with just an intense emptiness, aching inside her chest.

"Did you need something?" Santana asked the shorter girl, realizing silence was hanging over them.

"Oh, I was just trying to tell you that everybody is having breakfast downstairs," Rachel told her.

"Ok, thanks."

Suspicious, Rachel asked, "Santana…are you sure you are ok?"

"Yeah," the Latina sniffed, trying to hold back the emotions that were threatening to overtake her.

Rachel smiled, "Ok…well, hurry down then…my dad made pancakes for everyone!"

* * *

><p>"Who is ready for another round of pancakes?" Trey asked as he stepped out of the kitchen. The dark, handsome man had on an apron with marquee signs from various classic Broadway musicals and a white hand towel thrown casually over his left shoulder. He motioned with the silver spatula in his right hand, "Finn…you want a few more?"<p>

"Yes…thanks!" the baby-faced, teen responded as he chewed, "…these are awesome!"

"Finn, sweetie…don't talk with your mouth full," Rachel gently reminded him, wiping a glob of syrup off his chin with her napkin.

"Sorry…," Finn said, looking back down at his plate.

"That's ok, Rachel…let Finn enjoy his breakfast…," Daniel told her, closing his newspaper to reach for his coffee cup, "…he'll need strength to help your dad and me with our errands today."

"Finn, we really do appreciate you volunteering the use of your truck," Trey added.

"No problem!" Finn smiled, wiping at his face again.

Santana came into the dining room and quietly pulled out a chair on the opposite side of the table from Rachel and Finn. She sat down with one knee pulled up next to her body, picking up a silver fork from next to the plate and absent-mindedly stabbing at her cloth napkin.

"Good morning, Santana…," Daniel said to her in a cheerful voice, looking over the top of his newspaper, "How about a hot cup of coffee to get you moving?"

"Yeah…thanks," she responded, putting down the fork and reaching for the white container of coffee, pouring it into her flowered cup.

Trey appeared again with another serving plate, telling the young Latina, "…you're just in time…hot off the griddle!"

"Thanks…," she said as he placed two of the golden brown, round cakes onto her flowered plate.

"Butter?" Finn asked across the table.

"No thanks," Santana replied. She had not been able to shake the void she was feeling after having seen Brittany so vividly in her dream. She just wanted to fast forward the remaining two weeks until her love was home again.

"Finn, you did remember that you still have to pick up your tux before 4pm today?" Rachel asked him.

"Yes, Rach…I'll pick it up while your dad and I are out," the handsome teen rolled his eyes, setting his glass of orange juice back on the table.

"You're wearing a tux tonight, Finn?" Santana asked in a surprised tone.

"The Tonys are black tie, Santana…," Rachel reminded her, "…all the men will be in tuxes."

"Oh, you were serious about that…?" the taller brunette clarified, picking up one of her dry pancakes and taking a big bite.

"Yes…we're all dressing up, San…," Rachel told her.

"Kurt and Blaine are very excited about it," Finn added

"Yay…," Rachel clapped playfully, "…even Quinn and Mercedes agreed to join us…it's going to be so much fun!"

"You are going to be there tonight, aren't you, honey?" Trey asked her directly, sitting down at the other end from Daniel.

"Well…I don't have anything formal to wear," Santana sounded defeated. She had not shown much interest in the Tony party tradition as the Berrys finalized the details over the last couple of weeks, but secretly, she actually was looking forward to being part of this year's festivities.

"Perhaps Quinn would have something you could wear…let's call her," Rachel suggested.

"Why don't you just wear your prom dress? That's what Rachel's wearing…," Finn volunteered with a dopey shrug as he put his last fork full of pancakes in his mouth.

Rachel and her dads' heads all turned quickly in his direction, their eyes wide.

"Finn…," Rachel said under her breath, scolding him for his insensitivity.

"What…?" he asked, unaware of his faux pas, wiping at his face with his cloth napkin, "I thought the red looked good on her."

All their heads then turned toward Santana. She looked like a deer caught in headlights as all the color and expression drained from her face. The Latina swallowed hard and set her pancake back down on the plate.

"It got ruined that night…," she said softly, her voice shaking with emotion.

"Santana…I'm sure we could work in a trip to the mall today," Trey said quickly, trying to push through the awkwardness hanging over the table, "I love any opportunity to shop!"

"That's ok…I just won't go…," Santana stood and left the room abruptly.

"Santana…wait!" Rachel jumped up to follow her.

Daniel grabbed her by the forearm to stop her, "…just let her go right now, sweetheart."

"What did I say?" Finn asked again in confusion.

"Really? Prom night?" Rachel asked him, and seeing no mental recognition, added, "…the rape, Finn."

"I'm really sorry…I forgot," Finn genuinely offered.

"Well, she hasn't…," Rachel retorted with a harsh tone.

* * *

><p>"I'm soooo nervous," Austin Royle said as he approached Brittany.<p>

The attractive blonde was seated on the floor of a side hallway outside the Interlochen auditorium. Her long legs were outstretched in front of her, and she was bent over, stretching her muscles.

"Aren't you nervous?" he asked, pulling down the black vest of his costume.

"I'm excited actually…," Brittany responded, moving her duffle bag out of the walkway, "…I'm feeling pretty relaxed."

The slender boy walked over to peek through a side door of the auditorium. "Oh my god…even my brother and his girlfriend are sitting out there with my parents and grandparents," he told her with a big gulp of nervous energy, "…Not helping!"

"It's sweet that they're all here to support you…how far did they drive?" she inquired.

"Not far…we live in the next town over…though Kayla's from Ohio, down near Lima actually."

"Fifteen minutes until places, ladies and gentlemen!" Ms. Mack announced loudly to the young dancers who flitted back and forth down the hallway.

"Aaahhh! No going back, I guess!" Austin said dramatically.

"You'll do fine, Austin…," Brittany assured him, "…you made a lot of progress the last couple of days…and you know both routines backwards and forwards."

"Thank you again for all your help," he told her, kneeling down next to her.

"No problem…it's been fun," Brittany smiled at him, "…just remember, lift with your legs, ok?"

"Well, if ever I can repay you…just let me know."

Brittany stood up and leaned down to grab her bag, hearing a buzzing sound from inside. Unzipping it and pulling out her cell phone, she answered, "Hello?"

"Britt? It's me."

"Hey, honey…you just caught me…we're about to have our first graded performance," Brittany said as she stepped away from the group of teens.

"Good luck to you," Santana said mildly, "I know you'll be the best one out there."

"Is everything ok? You sound really down."

"Yeah, no worries…I'm just really missing you," Santana tried to cover how upset she was feeling.

"I miss you too, sweetheart…," the blonde assured her, "…hey, I'm really sorry I didn't get a chance to call you last night, but we were rehearsing until late."

"It's ok," Santana bit her lip to keep herself from crying. She wanted Brittany to enjoy her time at the camp and not to spend her effort worrying about the crap that was happening in Lima.

"Your meeting went well though, right?"

"Yeah, it was fine…everything's fine here," Santana lied.

"I do miss you, Santana…so much," Brittany paused, "…You would tell me if you're struggling again…right?"

"Right."

"Don't be sad, ok…I'll be home soon."

"FIVE minutes everyone…Group A is up first," Ms. Mack yelled down the hallway.

"Oh, that's me, hon…I've gotta go, ok?"

"Knock 'em dead, babe," Santana said with a little more enthusiasm, "I love you."

"I love you too…," Brittany said quickly as she hung up.

Santana locked the screen of her phone and sat down on the floor next to her bed, wiping at her wet eyes. There was a soft knock on the bedroom door.

"Come in," she said, barely loud enough to carry through the wood of the door.

"Hey…," Rachel walked in cautiously, "…I'm really sorry about Finn."

"He's an idiot," Santana couldn't cover her hurt feelings.

"Yeah…he really is sometimes, isn't he?"

Rachel sat down on the floor beside Santana, and the girls shared a small chuckle.

"I really want you to come tonight…please say you will," Rachel tried to coax.

"I want to, but I don't want to feel out of place."

"You won't…I already called Quinn…she's bringing over some options," Rachel said excitedly.

Santana couldn't contain her emotion any longer, fresh tears escaping from her dark brown eyes, "I never in a million years thought I'd be crying over some dumb party your family is hosting." The Latina laughed quietly at herself.

Rachel took Santana's hand in hers and squeezed it tightly, and said, smiling, "…some dumb party _our_family is hosting."

* * *

><p>Santana adjusted the white headphone in her right ear and looked down at the iPod in her hand, skipping the next three queued songs until the screen lit up with <strong>The Writer<strong>, by Ellie Goulding. She turned up the volume and let the song play as she looked out the passenger side window:

_You wait for a silence_  
><em>I wait for a word<em>  
><em>Lying next to your frame<em>  
><em>Girl unobserved<em>  
><em>You change your position<em>  
><em>You're changing me<em>  
><em>Casting these shadows<em>  
><em>Where they shouldn't be<em>

_We're interrupted_  
><em>By the heat of the sun<em>  
><em>Trying to prevent<em>  
><em>What's already begun<em>  
><em>You're just a body<em>  
><em>I can smell your skin<em>  
><em>And when I feel it<em>  
><em>You're wearing thin<em>

_But I've got a plan_  
><em>Why don't you be the artist<em>  
><em>And make me out of clay?<em>  
><em>Why don't you be the writer<em>  
><em>Decide the words I say?<em>  
><em>Cause I'd rather pretend<em>  
><em>I'll still be there at the end<em>  
><em>Only it's too hard to ask<em>  
><em>Won't you try to help me?<em>

_Sat on your sofa_  
><em>It's all broken springs<em>  
><em>This isn't the place for<em>  
><em>Those violin strings<em>  
><em>I try out a smile<em>  
><em>And I aim it at you<em>  
><em>You must have missed it<em>  
><em>You always do<em>

_But I've got a plan_  
><em>Why don't you be the artist<em>  
><em>And make me out of clay?<em>  
><em>Why don't you be the writer<em>  
><em>Decide the words I say?<em>  
><em>Cause I'd rather pretend<em>  
><em>I'll still be there at the end<em>  
><em>Only it's too hard to ask<em>  
><em>Won't you try to help me?<em>

"What…?" Santana pulled out her left earpiece as she turned to look at the driver.

"I said I heard a great joke the other day…want to hear it?" Burt Hummel said with a smile as he drove Santana home from work Monday evening.

"Sure…," Santana said with a sigh, pulling out her other earpiece but looking down at the book in her lap.

"So this guy goes to his wife's doctor and tells him, 'Doc, I'm pretty sure she's losing her hearing…she hasn't responded to anything I've said for two months now, but I know she's pretty sensitive about it, so what should I do?'…and the doctor tells him, 'Ok, you need to test this to see how bad it is…go home and ask her a question standing about 30 feet away, if she doesn't hear you then step closer to about 15 feet away, if she still doesn't hear you then walk right up next to her and ask her again'…," Burt launched into one of his typical jokes, "Have you heard this one before?"

"No…," Santana answered, continuing to read.

"Ok, so the guy goes home, right? He sees his wife in the kitchen making dinner, so he remembers the doctor's advice and calls out to her from the living room, 'Hey, honey…what's for dinner?'…no response…so he walks to the doorway of the kitchen and sees she's got her back to him, so he asks loudly again, 'Honey, what are we having for dinner?'…still, nothing…zilch…so he walks up right behind her and asks her loudly, right in her ear, 'Honey! What is for dinner?'…and the wife turns around and says right in his face, 'For the third time, Ed – we're having chicken!'…," Burt erupted in laughter at his own joke, looking over at his passenger, "…get it? 'We're having chicken'."

"Yeah…I got it, Burt…chicken," the young brunette told him, completely unamused.

"You've been very quiet all day today, kid…what gives?" Burt said as he slowed his truck to turn onto Meadow Creek.

"Nothing," Santana told him. She dog-eared the page of the book she was reading and closed it.

"Kurt said you guys had fun at the Berrys' little shindig last night."

"Yeah…we did," Santana confirmed.

"Ok…you're sure then?" Burt questioned, as he stopped the truck in front of the Berry driveway, putting it into park.

"Yeah…everything's cool."

"Well…if you decide there's something on your mind that you want to talk about…I'm a good listener."

"Thanks, Burt…I'll see you tomorrow morning," Santana gave him a half-smile as she opened the passenger door and slid out, closing it behind her. She was so distant in her thoughts that she did not even notice an unknown, silver Honda parked in the driveway behind Daniel's black Audi.

Without even turning to wave back at him, Santana opened the unlocked front door and moved inside toward the stairs. As she passed the living room, she heard called out to her, "Santana…could you come here please?"

The Latina backed up to the opening of the contemporary-clad living room. Seated on the suede, beige couch, across from Daniel Berry, was ADA Eric Cole.

"Hi, Santana…," ADA Cole said politely.

"Hi…," Santana answered cautiously.

"Honey, why don't you sit down a moment, ok?" Daniel suggested, motioning toward the other portion of the sectional couch.

Santana walk closer to them, but said, "I might have grease on me…I wouldn't want to get it on the couch."

"Oh, well…in that case…," Eric stood up, "I stopped by to discuss today's hearing with you."

"Isn't that unusual…for a district attorney to make a house call?" Santana said sarcastically, her suspicion rising.

Daniel stood as well, taking a step toward the teenager, "Santana…the hearing didn't go as anticipated."

"What does that mean?" she asked.

"The assigned judge was changed at the last minute…we're uncertain as to Judge Bradford's…affiliation…with David Karofsky's father…but I assure you…we will be looking into it immediately," Eric tried to explain.

Santana looked to Rachel's father for clarification, "I don't know what he's saying…what affiliation? What happened at the hearing, Daniel?"

"Judge Bradford released David on bail…," Eric revealed, "…to be held in home-confinement of course."

"What? Karofsky's out? How is that possible…he's just going to take off again…," Santana immediately panicked.

"Santana…calm down…he will be monitored 24/7 by a tracker on his ankle…he will not even be able to take a piss without us knowing about it…," the ADA tried to assure her.

"Eric…," Daniel looked over at his colleague, tilting his head toward Santana to subtly remind the ADA he was talking to a young girl.

"Sorry…but I don't want you to feel unsafe for one moment, ok?"

"Unsafe? Seriously…?" Santana's voice rose in the small room, "Do you realize what that monster did to me? Yeah, I feel unsafe…but worse…it's fucking unfair!"

"Santana…," Daniel tried to interject in order to calm her.

"Daniel…why didn't you do anything to keep his ass in jail?" Santana demanded.

"Santana, Daniel had no more control over this outcome than my office had," Eric defended.

"EXACTLY! You all should have fought harder…How is it fair that ever since that asshole held me down on the ground and brutally raped me that he has been walking around McKinley…then hanging out in Texas…and now he gets to kick back in the comfort of his own home? This is complete shit!" Santana screamed at the two men before turning to race out of the room.

"Santana!" Daniel yelled after her.

"Just leave me alone…," she cried as she ran up the staircase.

* * *

><p>Santana darted around the corner of the upstairs hallway, throwing open her bedroom door and sitting down on the side of her bed to collect her emotions. She felt her heart thumping hard inside her chest and her breathing becoming tighter. Images of prom night flashed in her mind so fast that the room started spinning around her. <em>Oh god…nooooo…please stop,<em> she heard her screams from that night echoing inside her head. Santana pulled out her cell phone from the side pocket of her jeans, and with her right hand gripping at her tightening chest, she fumbled to dial Brittany with her left.

_Please answer…please answer…please answer…please_, she internally begged.

"Hi, this is Brittany…I can't take your call…." Santana hung up the phone without leaving a message.

_Fuck…where are you_? _I need you, Britt_…Santana's thoughts were whirling inside her brain. She needed something quickly to settle herself. She opened the drawer on the bedside table and pulled out her prescription bottle for Xanax, popping off the top and tilting the brown bottle until a couple of the pills fell out into the palm of her hand. She paused a moment, contemplating that if one usually helped then two would probably help faster. She threw them both into her mouth without much more thought and swallowed hard.

The two pills caught in the dryness of her tightening throat, so she set the bottle on the side table and moved toward her closet to search for her backpack. She leaned down to search the floor, finding the pack under a pile of dirty clothes and a pair of black boots. Santana stood back up to unzip it, but the sudden movement made her feel even more lightheaded. As she steadied herself a moment with a hand on the closet door, images of Karofsky on top of her, drunk and breathing heavily in her face, were still overwhelming her senses.

Santana dug into the backpack until she found what she had hidden there a few days earlier, pulling out a half-empty pint of Jack Daniels that Puck gave her last week.

She moved back to the bed and sat down, coughing on the powdery residue from the lingering pills that was in the back of her throat. She unscrewed the top of the glass bottle and took a huge swallow of liquid, washing down the two pills. Santana sat quietly for a moment, trying to fortify her mind against Karofsky's sensory assault. Her breathing was still shallow, and her head was starting to pound under the lack of oxygen. She grabbed the pill bottle again and shook out what she intended to be one more Xanax, hoping to speed up the calming process. Though under the chaos of her emotions, she wasn't entirely sure…it could have easily been two or three more.

Santana threw the pills into her mouth and rinsed them down with another large swig of Jack. As the warm alcohol moved through her body, Santana leaned back against her headboard. She stretched her slender legs out in front of her while taking another long drink, emptying the bottle. Slowly, she felt her entire being relax, and the room seemed to become smaller as she lay there. As her mind became foggy, a certain kind of peace fell over her, and she felt lightweight enough that she might actually float right off the bed. She lifted her head, but it felt too heavy to balance so she quickly leaned it back against the headboard.

Santana heard a singing voice in the distance. Confused she tried hard to focus her eyes on her surroundings. _Who's singing?_ She laughed out loud. _It's pretty_. The Latina glanced down at the bedside table through glossy vision, realizing finally that the singing was coming from her phone.

"Hellooo…?" Santana slurred as she put the phone to her ear.

"Santana?" Brittany wasn't sure who was at the other end.

"Yeah."

"You sound weird."

"Who is this?"

"Brittany...what's going on?"

"Brittany's not here."

"No, I'm Brittany…your girlfriend?" the blonde's concern was mounting.

"Okay."

"I had a missed call from you?" Brittany reminded the brunette.

"I called you?" Santana words were slurring more and more.

"Santana – where _are_ you?"

Santana tried to lift her head again to look around her, but her head instantly fell back against the headboard, "Oww." She laughed out loud more at the sound it made than any pain her body might feel currently.

"Santana?" Brittany tried again, "Where are you and what are you doing?"

"I'm flying, Britt."

"Santana…is anybody there with you?" Brittany was panicked at this point.

Silence.

"Santana…?" the blonde's voice rising with her fright, "…SANTANA?"

Santana's eyelids slowly closed as unconsciousness overtook her.

* * *

><p>"I don't know yet, Britt…I just got here," Quinn said as she entered through double, glass doors, "Let me find out what's going on, and I'll call you back…yes, I promise."<p>

Quinn put her phone into the small pocket on the front of her khaki skirt as she rounded the corner leading to what she remembered were the emergency rooms. She immediately saw Rachel standing at the entrance to one of the urgent care rooms.

"What is going on?" Quinn asked the shorter girl as she walked up to her.

Rachel turned and wrapped her arms around the blonde, squeezing tightly and crying into her shoulder.

"I don't understand what happened…," Quinn said.

Rachel pulled back and wiped at her runny nose with a crumpled tissue she had in her hand. "She overdosed…I heard them say they're pumping her stomach."

"Oh my god, Rach…why would she do this?"

"I don't know…I mean, she's been really upset the last few days…," the brunette remembered, "…but she seemed alright last night, didn't you think?"

"Did you hear if they said she'd be okay?"

"My dad got to her pretty fast after Brittany called me…she was unconscious so he called 911."

"Brittany called me too…she's going insane."

"Yeah, I met my dad here so I haven't had a chance to call her back."

"Where is he now…does he know anything?"

"He's filling out some paperwork."

A young man in dark blue scrubs pushed open the swinging double doors, running right into the teens. "Girls, you can't stand there…you need to move into the waiting area."

"But we need to know if she is going to be alright…" Rachel trailed off under her emotions.

"Are you family?"

"Yes," Quinn answered without hesitation.

The young nurse looked at them with a raised eyebrow of suspicion.

"I'm her sister…," Rachel added confidently.

"Step over here…," the young man motioned them to the side, out of the doorway, "She's going to be in a lot of discomfort for the next couple of days…but we were able to pump everything out of her…and she's conscious…so that's good."

"Oh, thank god," Quinn was relieved.

"She should be fine…physically anyway…but that's off the record…you need to wait for the doctor to speak to your family, ok?"

"Yes, thank you so much…," Rachel said to him with a smile.

"Now please move to the waiting area," he said before he left down the hallway.

Rachel and Quinn paused in front of the double doors to look in at Santana who was laying on a gurney as three other medical staff moved around her. The girls turned to walk down the hall toward the lobby but saw Dr. Lopez walking toward them at a quickened pace. Close behind him was Daniel Berry, trying to keep up with the taller man.

"Hector, stop…this is not going to help Santana," Daniel called out ahead of him.

"You clearly haven't helped her, have you Daniel?" Dr. Lopez said loudly.

"She was only with my family because you threw her out like a piece of garbage," Daniel stated bluntly.

Santana's father stopped abruptly and turned to face Daniel as he caught up to him. The two men stood toe to toe next to Quinn and Rachel who watched with wide eyes.

"I am sick of your accusations!"

"She is a child…you don't get to pick and choose when you want to parent her."

"She is MY child…and I will discipline her as I see fit."

"The way you see fit is not discipline…it is abandonment."

"Who the hell are you to be the moral compass here?"

"What does that mean?"

"Look, I don't care what you choose to do in the privacy of your own house…but your lifestyle is clearly a detriment to my daughter."

"You have no idea what goes on inside my house, and there is more to me and my family than just a 'lifestyle'…but you need to face the truth that there are multiple reasons your daughter is in that room right now," Daniel was so angry he was turning red, "Perhaps if she had the loving support of her parents then she would be better able to deal with her feelings that led to this."

"Gentlemen, please…," an older woman from inside the room stuck out her head to say, "…you are upsetting the patient."

Dr. Lopez pushed past the nurse to enter the room, saying loudly, "…What have you done to yourself, Santana?"

* * *

><p>Santana felt a soft touch run along the side of her face before she slowly opened her eyes. The room around her was dark except for the unnatural blue glow of the florescent lamp above her hospital bed. She felt disoriented from sleeping, but when she turned her head, she saw a very familiar face.<p>

"Brittany?"

"Hi…," she responded softly, "I've been watching you sleep."

Santana closed her eyes tightly, unsure if she was dreaming again. She opened them quickly, anticipating the same disappointment she felt Sunday morning, but Brittany was still sitting next to her bed.

"Are you real?"

The tall blonde let out a small laugh, "I'm pretty sure."

Santana tried to raise her hand to reach for Brittany, but her wrist caught mid-air, unable to move any further. Santana looked down, remembering that her wrists were tethered to the railings of the bed.

"My father's orders…," she said bitterly.

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart," Brittany pushed her hand through the slit of the railing and took Santana's hand.

Santana squeezed her fingers around Brittany's, tears falling down her pale face, "You really are here."

"Yeah…," Brittany leaned over and kissed the Latina on her dry lips, "I'm here."

"How did you get here? You should be in Michigan."

"I got a ride with a friend's brother…I'm here until he drives back on Friday."

"No, Britt…you shouldn't miss any of your camp!"

"Don't stress, ok…I talked to my instructor and told her I had a family emergency…she said as long as I know the routine by Sunday's performance then she had no objection to me coming home."

"Do your parents know you're in town?"

"Well…that's a whole other worry…I'm hoping to get back to camp before they discover I left."

"I'm so sorry…I hate this."

"Why did you do it, Tan…I would have come home if I knew things were that bad for you."

"I didn't…I keep telling everyone it was an accident."

"But you took the pills, didn't you?"

"It was an accident…I didn't mean to take that many…," the brunette started crying uncontrollably, "I didn't try to kill myself, Britt…I swear it."

Brittany pulled Santana as close to her as the straps would allow, "shhh…I believe you."

"I wish my parents did…I've totally screwed myself now, Britt…my father's sending me away to some recovery camp," Santana said through her tears, "I'm just so scared…I don't even know what I'm supposed to be recovering from."

"You know what…fuck them…," Brittany said with a determined tone, reaching down to unbuckle the padded restraints and freeing Santana's arms, "Let's get out here."

"What?" Santana was unsure of this side of Brittany.

"Are you feeling strong enough to walk?"

"Yeah," Santana rubbed at the pain in her wrists.

Brittany reached across Santana to the other side of the bed and turned off the IV machine. "Are you sure about this?"

Santana nodded.

Brittany had watched Santana's nurses change out enough of her IV lines when she was in the hospital the last time, so she confidently pulled out the plastic tubing from the connector in Santana's hand, tossing it to the side.

"You're most definitely sure?" Brittany asked once more, not sure if she was trying to convince Santana or herself.

"Do it."

Brittany peeled off the clear tape from the brunette's hand and placed her thumb firmly on her skin as she slowly pulled out the needle. She stood quickly and searched the room for Santana's clothes, finding nothing but a pair of beige, hospital slippers. "Here…put these on."

Santana slid out of the bed and put the slippers on her bare feet while Brittany unzipped the backpack she was traveling with to pull out a change of her own clothes.

"Get dressed quickly…," the blonde instructed, tossing the clothes to her, "I'm going to check the hallway."

"No, Britt…I don't want you to get in any more trouble because of me…just wait until I leave then tell them you don't know where I went."

"No way…we're in this together…," Brittany gave her a big smile, her blue eyes bright with firm resolve, "…no regrets, right?"

"No regrets…," Santana smiled back at her.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note<strong>: Well, I must confess I'm as nervous about what might happen in Chapter 13 as you might be right now. Please let me know what you think so far. Your feedback and encouragement has been invaluable to me. I appreciate each and every one of you. Thank you, KB


	13. Chapter 13

**Author****'****s ****note**: Thank you so much for your enthusiasm for this story! I love it when readers leave notes to tell me they enjoyed a reference to a song or a book or a college or a poet or when they have strong feelings about certain characters or their motivations. That is very cool to me, so please don't hesitate to post something personal that jumps out at you. Hugs to each of you. :)

**HER SMILE HEALS ME (CHAPTER 13)**

**By mamatots**

_**October, 2008**_

"Boo!"

"Santana!" Brittany screamed out as she was startled stepping out of the bathroom into her bedroom. She turned to give a playful punch to Santana's shoulder.

"Ahahaha…I got you good…you must have jumped three feet off the ground," the brunette laughed at the reaction she got from the tall blonde.

"It's not funny…that movie really scared me, Tan," Brittany told her with a serious look on her freshly-cleaned, freckled face.

"Britt…when you pick a movie called 'Saw'…you should pretty much expect a blood bath," Santana said matter-of-factly, following Brittany over to the bed and climbing under the covers.

"Well, when you told me the choices…I thought that one was about a lumberjack," Brittany said credulously, pulling her long legs up on the other side of the double bed.

"A lumberjack…what?" Santana looked at her with confusion as she did often.

"You know…with the ax…and the blue ox?" the young blonde smiled.

"An ax is just as scary as a chainsaw, don't you think?" Santana tried to make the connection.

"No, lumberjacks are from Minnesota…they are very friendly people, Santana," Brittany explained, "…and so is his ox."

Santana shook her head, "Brittany Susan Pierce…you always make me smile."

"What did I say?"

"It's not always what you say…," Santana smiled widely at the blonde, laying her head over in her lap and looking up at the sparkle in Brittany's blue eyes, "…it's just…how you say what you say, I guess."

"Hmm…well, you've been the only one who seems to understand what or how I say things," Brittany said somewhat sadly, pushing a strand of raven-colored hair out of Santana's face, "…everyone else just laughs and makes fun."

"Don't ever worry about what other people say to you, Britt…besides…," Santana sat back up, leaning over to give her a squeeze, "…we'll always have each other's backs…right?"

"Right," Brittany leaned her head onto Santana's shoulder.

"Ok, it's way late…get the lamp so we can sleep," Santana requested, adjusting the two pillows on her side of the bed.

"I'm too scared to turn off the light…," Brittany said, wrinkling her nose.

"Britt…I'm tired…and we've got all-day cheer practice tomorrow."

"Snuggle me then?" Brittany asked innocently.

"What…?" Santana asked, not sure she understood her best friend's request.

"I'll turn the light out if you promise to keep me safe from that jigsaw puppet thingy, ok?"

Santana turned over to face Brittany, taking in a deep breath, "…yeah, ok."

Santana swallowed hard as she watched Brittany lean to turn off the small lamp on the bedside table, the room suddenly lit only by the soft glow of an outside street lamp. The brunette waited patiently for the blonde to settle down under the comforter, facing outward and pulling her pillow up under her chin as she always did when she was first falling asleep. Santana knew that fact well, having watched closely many times. Once Brittany seemed comfortable, Santana closed the distance between them, spooning right up behind her and draping her right arm tightly over the blonde's lean, long body.

Brittany surprised Santana by covering her arm with her own, interlocking their fingers, and molding herself even closer into the Latina's body behind her. Santana tried to take in another deep settling breath, feeling the air catch momentarily in her chest, her pulse racing. She closed her eyes a moment, taking in the warmth of Brittany's backside pressed firmly into Santana's abdomen. The two of them had physical contact all the time in dance class, gymnastics, especially with both of them being together on the cheerleading squad, and even in their daily friendship, but Santana noticed more and more that her heart seemed to skip a beat or two in quiet moments like this with Brittany.

Even as Santana's mind worked through the thoughts flying around inside it, she caught herself unintentionally leaning into her best friend, breathing the faint scent of her sun-kissed hair.

After a few moments, Santana realized Brittany was asleep. She listened to the soft sound of Brittany's even breaths and felt their arms moving in unison with the gentle rise and fall of Brittany's chest. The Latina licked at her dry lips and swallowed hard again as she noticed in the dim light that there was a small, exposed part of Brittany's neck where her long hair had fallen away. Everything inside Santana, for some intrinsic reason, wanted to kiss the blonde on her exposed skin.

_Why __do __you __do __this __to __me, __Britt_…Santana asked herself. Her mind battled itself for another moment or two before she finally leaned into Brittany and lightly placed a kiss on her neck, breathing deep the scent of coconut shampoo before resting her head on the back part of Brittany's pillow. _I __love __you, __Brittany __Pierce _was Santana's last thought before she too drifted into sleep.

* * *

><p><em><strong>June, 2011<strong>_

_Stop me on the corner_

_I swear you hit me like a vision_

_I, I, I wasn't expecting_

_But who am I to tell fate where it's supposed to_

_go with it_

_Don't you blink, you might miss it_

_See we got a right to just love it or leave it_

_You find it and keep it_

'_Cause it ain't every day you get the chance to_

_say  
><em>

_Oh, this is how it starts, lighting strikes the heart_

_It goes off like a gun, brighter than the sun_

_Oh, it could be the stars falling from the sky_

_Shining how we want, brighter than the sun  
><em>

_I never seen it, but I found this love, I'm gonna feed it_

_You better believe I'm gonna treat it_

_Better than anything I've ever had_

'_Cause you're so damn beautiful  
><em>

_Read it, it's signed and delivered, let's seal it_

…_we go together like peanuts and paydays_

_Marley and reggae_

_And everybody needs to get a chance to say_

_Oh, this is how it starts, lighting strikes the heart_

_It goes off like a gun, brighter than the sun_

_Oh, it could be the stars falling from the sky_

_Shining how we want, brighter than the sun_

Quinn pushed around the penne on her plate with her fork while listening to the song playing in the background of the restaurant.

"Is your dinner good?" Cate asked her with a cheery tone.

"Huh? Oh, yes…it's delicious," Quinn looked up and smiled.

The tall brunette laughed, "…well, you could've fooled me."

"No, it is…I'm sorry…perhaps I ate too much popcorn during the movie," Quinn offered.

"Perhaps…," Cate added, "…but you are a million miles away right now too."

Truth was Quinn had very much enjoyed seeing Grand Hotel at the restored theater downtown. She and Cate had even managed to squeeze in an entire conversation about the tragic life and death of Elliot Smith in their walk from the theater across the street to the Italian restaurant to wait for a table. She was so lost in their easy-flowing conversation, Quinn hadn't even given a thought to what any of the other movie patrons or restaurant diners might be observing between them. Until now…

Quinn placed her fork down in her plate and wiped at the corners of her mouth with her napkin, placing it back in her lap, "I don't mean to be…I apologize."

"Do you want to talk about what's on your mind?"

Quinn gave the older girl a half-smile, "I'm not sure I'd know where to start."

"Ok…well…try the beginning," Cate encouragingly smiled back.

The blonde paused in hesitation, "…this is a date, isn't it?"

Cate pushed aside a strand of brown hair which had fallen into her pretty face, hiding the crystal blue of her right eye, "Not if you don't want it to be."

Quinn looked down and drew in a deep breath.

"Quinn, listen…I'm sorry if something is making you uncomfortable," Cate told her, setting her fork down.

"I've never done this before," Quinn looked back up.

Cate's eyes narrowed in confusion, "…eaten pasta?"

"…been out with a girl," the teen corrected.

Cate's face froze for a moment in an expression that Quinn could not quite read.

"Should I have told you that before tonight?" Quinn asked for clarification.

"I made a very huge assumption, didn't I?" the brunette smiled awkwardly.

"You assumed I'm…what? Gay?" Quinn wasn't sure what to think, "Why?…because I'm friends with Santana?"

"Look…I'm very sorry…let's just pay and get out of here, ok?"

"Stop…," Quinn put her hand over Cate's as she reached for the bill, "…I never said I wasn't having a good time with you, Cate. In fact…I always have a wonderful time with you."

"Ok…now I'm confused."

"Join the club…," Quinn let out a chuckle.

The taller girl smiled and pulled back her hand, setting it nervously in her lap. She took a moment to look Quinn up and down before saying, "You know, Quinn Fabray…you're totally throwing me off my game here."

"Good…now we both don't know what to do next."

"Is it okay to tell you that I can't stop thinking about you since we met Friday night?" Cate smiled sheepishly.

"Only if it's okay to tell you that I can still feel your lips on mine," Quinn blushed.

* * *

><p>"Thank you," Brittany handed some cash to the taxi driver before sliding out of the backseat behind Santana.<p>

The two walked hand in hand up the Berry driveway then stepped up on the front porch. Brittany looked back as the white cab pulled away from the curb. Santana put her hand on the doorknob but hesitated a moment as to whether she should still consider this her home. Trust had always been such a huge issue for the young Latina…especially since so many people had disappointed her in her life. _Everyone __but __Brittany_…she thought to herself, looking up at the tall blonde standing next to her.

"Are you going to open it?" Brittany asked matter-of-factly.

Santana slowly twisted the knob. _Locked_. _Damn_. Santana had no keys on her. In fact, she had nothing on her…no keys, no cell phone, no clothes…_nothing_.

"Should I knock?" Santana looked to Brittany for guidance.

"That's probably better than breaking a window," Brittany joked.

Santana rolled her eyes though Brittany couldn't see it in the dim lighting. She reached up and knocked on the wooden door.

After a solid minute, the porch light turned on above them then the door opened.

"Santana…come inside," Daniel did not seem too surprised to see her there, and he ushered the girls into the house, looking back for anyone outside before closing the door behind him.

They all moved through the hallway toward the entrance of the living room.

"Your father just called from the hospital…they've contacted the police," Daniel informed them, "…do you realize how much trouble you are creating for yourself?"

"Daniel, it was my idea…don't blame Santana…please," Brittany said boldly.

"And what are you doing here anyway…your parents are going to be very upset too," Daniel folded his arms in frustration.

"Dad…," Rachel interjected as she stepped off the stairs behind them, "…go easy on them…they obviously came here for help."

"Don't you start too…," Daniel looked toward the couch where his partner sat, "…and do you have anything to add?"

"Everybody sit down and let's talk this through," Trey suggested, crossing his long legs at the knees.

As Brittany and Santana sat closely on one section of the couch and Rachel sat at their feet on the floor, Daniel sat on the edge of a club chair across from them all, running his hand through his dark, curly hair and pushing up on the frames of his glasses.

"Settle down, Daniel," Trey said calmly.

"How can I settle down when the police could show up here any minute, and we have two minors who should not be here?"

"Daniel…I had to leave the hospital…my parents plan to send me to that camp…it's not fair," Santana rationalized.

"Santana, sweetheart…you are having issues that you are clearly ill-equipped to handle…the professionals at the camp can help you learn better coping skills," Daniel lovingly explained.

"You're siding with them now?" Santana's emotions erupted.

Brittany pulled her love close to her to calm her, "Shh, honey…let's listen to him."

"I don't want to listen to that crap…I just want everyone to believe me when I say that I did not attempt suicide…I didn't!"

"We believe you, Santana," Rachel assured her, caressing the bottom of the larger girl's leg.

"Do you, Trey?" Santana asked, looking over at the dark-skinned man.

"Yes, dear…I do," he confirmed.

"Daniel…?" Santana pushed, needing the final bit of validation from the people she now considered her family.

"Yes, I believe you," he told her, "…but, I also know the fear that I felt when I found you unconscious…I don't want you to ever be in that much danger again."

"Daniel…I'm sorry…I don't know what more to say," Santana's voice cracked with emotion.

"Santana, you don't have to apologize to me or to any of us…but this trial is only going to get harder for you…and I truly worry about how you are going to handle it."

"I don't see how it could get any harder, Dad…if she's made it this far…then…," Rachel started.

"Daniel…you need to tell her the latest," Trey advised his partner.

"Why…what's going on now?" Santana sat up straight, her defenses immediately at the ready.

"Santana…the DA's office has some problems with their case against Karofsky…," Daniel stated cautiously.

"What do you mean?" she asked for clarification.

"Some of the evidence the police gathered has been ruled inadmissible by Judge Bradford," Daniel explained.

"Like what?" the anxiety in Santana's voice was evident.

"…some of the crime scene photos were deemed...for lack of a better explanation 'stale'…"

"'Stale'? As in old?...why?" Rachel asked.

"The judge ruled that too much time passed between the rape and the evidence being collected," Daniel explained further.

Santana sat frozen on the couch.

"Well…we all talked to the police too…doesn't that help?" Brittany asked.

"Witness statements are not enough…they're all circumstantial…ADA Cole needs tangible evidence to present to Judge Bradford by next week…or he may dismiss the charges."

"What? He can't do that!" Santana's voice rose in the small room.

"This is exactly what I was talking about Santana…you get so upset…understandably so…but it is difficult to talk to you about any of this without worrying how this will affect you," Daniel warned.

Brittany rubbed Santana on the back until her body relaxed some.

"What's tangible mean?" Brittany asked.

"Finger prints or any items from that night, like her dress…but all of that was destroyed."

"Her dress wasn't destroyed," Brittany said innocently, "I have it."

All heads turned to look at the blonde.

"You have the dress? Why didn't you give it to the police, Brittany?" Daniel asked.

"Well…nobody asked for it," she stated as if that made perfect sense to her.

"We need to get it…where is it now?"

"In a box in my closet."

"Do you think your mom would let me in to get it…if I said I needed something from your room?" Rachel proposed.

"Yeah, probably…I'll call her and let her know to expect you tomorrow…will that work?"

They looked at Daniel who nodded.

* * *

><p>"I need to get something from my room, ok?" Santana said to Brittany as she pulled out her cell phone.<p>

Brittany nodded as she dialed her home number, putting the phone to her ear and waiting as it rang several times.

"Hello?"

"Mom?"

"Brittany…I was about to call you," Mrs. Pierce stated, "Are you where you can talk a moment?"

Brittany looked around, knowing internally that her parents would be extremely upset if they knew she was in Lima, "Yeah…sure…what's up?"

"I wasn't sure if I should upset you with this information…but you deserve to know."

"Is something wrong?" Brittany wasn't sure where her mom was going with the conversation.

"It's Santana…she's okay now, so don't worry…but she's in the hospital."

"Oh god!" Brittany thought it was best to play along since her mom had no knowledge of Brittany's involvement, "What happened, Mom?"

"Apparently she overdosed on some prescription medication," Mrs. Pierce said cautiously, "Her mother called me…she wanted to make sure you knew…I thought it was very sweet of her."

"Yeah…sweet," Brittany couldn't hide her bitterness very well, "Thank you for telling me, Mom…I really appreciate it…I'll call Santana to check on her."

"I love you, honey…and don't worry…I'll check on her too, ok?"

"Wait, what?"

"I'll go by the hospital tomorrow and see how she's feeling…I know how hard it is for you to be away from her…I'll give her a hug for you."

Brittany's face lost all expression as her mind started racing. She swallowed hard and said, "Sounds great…thank you."

"Oh, Britt…what did you call about?"

"Huh? Oh…um, Rachel Berry is going to come by there tomorrow. She needs to borrow something. She knows where to look for it, ok?"

"Oh, ok…I'll tell your dad too in case she comes when I'm not here."

"Thank you."

"How is camp going?"

"Awesome," Brittany's mouth was dry now, and she noticed her hands were shaking.

"Did you ever get your grade on your first week?"

"Uh, yeah…my class ranked number one," she told her mom.

"That's wonderful, honey!"

Brittany looked up to see Santana coming down the last half of the staircase with a backpack and a duffle bag.

"Thanks…ok, I better go now, Mom," Brittany said as the doorbell rang.

"Is that a doorbell?" Mrs. Pierce asked with a strangeness to her tone.

"Yeah…on TV…I'll talk to you later, ok? Love you, bye!" Brittany said quickly, hanging up the cell phone and grabbing her backpack.

Daniel looked out the peep hole in the front door, turning around to whisper, "Police officers."

Rachel turned to Santana, "Go out through the backyard…there's a path down by the tree that leads to the street behind us…it's not far to Quinn's house if you stay on Hillcrest until it crosses Highmont."

"Ok, thanks," Santana handed her duffle bag to Brittany then turned back around to quickly hug Rachel, "Love you."

Rachel's eyes lit up, and she squeezed back, saying, "Love you back…so please stay safe…now go!"

* * *

><p>"Awww…no way! He was out!"<p>

"That ref is blind…he wouldn't be able to tell a baseball from his own balls!"

"David, don't be crude…and feet off of the coffee table please," Mrs. Karofsky instructed, bringing into the living room an older, dumpy man who wore a brown, tweed blazer and a burgundy bowtie and carried a worn-looking, leather briefcase.

"Thomas…what brings you here at this hour?" Mr. Karofsky put the footrest of his recliner down and stood up to shake the hand of the shorter man.

"I come with good news," Thomas Lowell said with as much enthusiasm as an overworked attorney could have at 9 pm on a Tuesday night.

"Well…by all means…share it with us…I think we could use a little good news since this game is obviously beyond resuscitation," David's father looked down at this son and laughed knowingly, "Son, mute the volume."

Thomas took a seat, placing his leather satchel at his feet, on a floral loveseat across from the couch where David Karofsky sat. "I think your quote/unquote victim may be in a quicker decline than her case against you."

"What does that mean?" David asked, lowering his feet to the ground, careful not to bang the black, electronic box affixed to his ankle, and sitting upright on the couch.

"Santana Lopez is in the hospital from a drug overdose," the older man announced victoriously.

David's father clasped his hands together in front of his broad chest, "Wonderful!"

"Wait…is she ok?" David asked with a concerned tone.

"Does it matter, David…the point is we can totally spin this in our favor," Thomas looked toward the elder Karofsky and placed a hand to his chest in a sarcastic mock of concern, "…Clearly Ms. Lopez – though she has our deepest sympathy, Your Honor – is quite mentally unstable…and though we are confident the Court will find the appropriate treatment to recommend to this desperate young lady…we respectfully request that the Court intervene immediately to stop this injustice against David whose only transgression here is attempting to befriend and show affection toward a very troubled classmate."

"Excellent defense, my friend…," Mr. Karofsky bellowed with hearty laughter and applause, "…Your merit is certainly adding up to your outrageous price tag."

Thomas joined in the jovial atmosphere by standing and giving a mini bow to his audience, "Ah, but as I told you when you hired me…you cannot put value on freedom or peace of mind."

"True…very true," Mrs. Karofsky agreed with a smile.

"If you don't need me for anything then I'm going to bed now," David said as he stood abruptly.

"Son, why so glum? There is finally a light at the end of the tunnel…," his father asked him.

"It's just that…nevermind…goodnight."

"David…," Mr. Karofsky called out to him, "…what is your problem?"

David Karofsky stood at the doorway of his living room, looking across at his parents and his attorney. Everything in him told him he should be relieved to somehow climb out of this hole he found himself buried in, but he was only filled with disgust. The expression on his father's face was the same one David saw time and time again when he listened to his father mumble some ethnic slur or homophobic remark or make some biting commentary on the liberal media and its influence on the youth of today and its role in the destruction of morality.

David's insides burned with the kind of self-hatred that came from not being able to lift enough weights or punch enough walls or scream out enough times in the privacy of his car to make his mind stop thinking of guys in a sexual way. He hated himself for not being a _real_ man…or at least the kind of man his father ingrained in him was the only acceptable form of a man.

"David, say what it is you have to say…," his father challenged him.

David knew his father did not actually mean for him to speak his mind. His father never wanted to know his thoughts or opinions on anything…unless it was just a mirror image of his own statements. So for years, that was all David had shown to his parents, knowing how angry his father would be and how hurt his mother would feel if they ever found out he had thoughts that were different…_immoral_. Yet, he stood there in his home, finally feeling more disgust for them than he did for himself.

"I just don't like how you're making Santana seem so wacked out…I mean, she's a human being, you know…," David said.

"David, she is lying about you…if she is willing to lie than why should we feel any sympathy for her?" his mother asked.

"Because…she's not!" David froze under a flood of images in his memory, sweat forming on his brow and a sick feeling twisting inside his gut, before his natural instinct to preserve himself kicked in,"…she's not…_crazy_…like you're making her seem."

David turned to leave the room, mumbling under his breath, "I just don't think she deserves that…not after what I did to her."

* * *

><p>Cate opened the passenger door to the small truck and stepped aside for Quinn to slide out.<p>

"Thank you," Quinn smiled up at the tall, slender brunette, watching as Cate shut the door behind her.

The two walked silently side by side up the rest of the long driveway before stepping onto the decorative pathway that snaked its way to Quinn's front door. Their arms brushed lightly together as they moved, and after several steps, Quinn gently slipped her hand inside Cate's, folding her fingers delicately into a timid squeeze.

Cate's lips turned upward into a small smile that Quinn could not see.

As the two of them stepped up on the stone porch, Quinn let go of Cate's hand to pull out a key from her small purse, turning around to face the older girl. "I really enjoyed tonight," she said with a broad smile, "I'm sorry I made it sort of awkward there at the end."

"No worries, ok?" Cate assured her.

"I'm filled with worry all of the time…that's something you should probably know about me up front."

"All of the time?" Cate cocked her head to the side.

"Well…_most_ of the time…," Quinn amended, "…my friends tell me I think way too much."

"What are you thinking about right now?"

Quinn paused and looked down. Cate could see in the moonlight that Quinn was visible shaking, but Cate stood there quietly, waiting for a response.

Finally, Quinn looked up, biting nervously at the left-hand corner of her lower lip, and responded, "How I really hope you'll kiss me again."

Cate smiled, taking a step toward her and putting her hands around Quinn's trim waist. She pulled her closer and leaned down to kiss Quinn softly on her lips.

"And what are you thinking now?" Cate asked, barely above a whisper.

Quinn hooked her index fingers in the belt loops on Cate's jeans, pulling her back toward her. "Nothing now," she said before stretching up to kiss her back.

Cate wrapped her arms around the small of Quinn's back and deepened the kiss. Quinn's hands moved up to Cate's jawline as she leaned back against the frame of the doorway, feeling Cate's body move with hers…any distance between them was gone.

Quinn found herself completely lost in the moment until they both heard someone clear their throat nearby. Breaking apart, Cate turned around toward the noise as Quinn unconsciously wiped at her wet lips with the side of her hand.

"Sorry to interrupt…," Santana said with a smile.

"Santana, how are you out of the hospital?" Quinn asked with surprise in her voice then seeing Brittany standing next to her, she added with even more shock, "Brittany, what are you doing here?"

"I came home to check on Santana," the taller blonde responded as if it were obvious.

"Hi, I'm Cate…," the older girl introduced herself to Brittany.

Brittany's eyes were wide with astonishment at what she and Santana happened upon, but she smiled politely and said, "I'm Brittany…nice to meet you."

"You must be the girl who makes that one's face light up with just a text?" Cate pointed teasingly at Santana.

Santana smiled sheepishly and looped her arm with Brittany's arm, confirming, "Yeah…she's pretty awesome."

Brittany smiled back at her and winked.

"Um, so how exactly are you standing here right now, San?" Quinn refocused the foursome.

"Long story…but can we crash here tonight?"

Quinn looked over at Cate who nodded, saying, "Hey, I'm going to take off and let you guys do your thing…unless you need help with something?"

"We'll be ok…I think…," Quinn looked back at Brittany and Santana with confused apprehension.

"Ok..well, I'm just a phone call away…," Cate added reassuringly, looking directly at Santana.

"Thank you, Cate," Santana responded.

"I'm very glad you are going to be ok," the older girl told Santana with a smile as the Latina nodded back at her.

"Thank you again for tonight," Quinn said sweetly as Cate stepped off the porch, looking back to wave knowingly at her.

The three teens watched as Cate got back in the small truck, started the ignition, and backed out of the driveway before driving away.

"Q, we should probably get inside…like _now_," Brittany suggested.

Once Quinn opened the heavy wooden door with her house key, the three of them quickly went inside. Santana pushed aside the white fabric covering a slender pane of glass on one side of the doorway. Seeing nothing unusual, she turned toward the two blondes, "Looks like we made it."

"What the hell is going on with you two?" Quinn wanted to know.

"I think we could ask you the same thing…," Brittany said with a giant grin.

* * *

><p>"Just hang out in here in the morning," Quinn instructed, "I'll let you know as soon as my mom leaves for her meeting."<p>

"I want to go by my mom's bank first, ok?" Santana told her.

"She just gave you that check?" Quinn asked.

"Yeah, right after they threw me out…," Santana said with bitterness.

Brittany put her arm around Santana's shoulders and squeezed her lovingly, "It's good you have it now."

"What are you going to do after you get that money?"

"Make sure Brittany gets back to Michigan," Santana said firmly.

"Santana…don't worry about me right now…," Brittany tried.

"Well, somebody needs to…you're too busy worrying about me."

"Listen, let's all stop worrying for tonight and get some rest, ok?" Quinn suggested. She leaned in to hug Santana, "I'm very glad you're alive…you scared us, you know?"

"Yeah, I know…I'm really sorry," Santana said, hugging her tightly.

"We love you, Santana," Quinn told her, "…so don't do it again!"

The Latina smiled and nodded her agreement.

Quinn pulled away then hugged Brittany, "I'm glad to see you too…and I'm really glad you're here…for her sake."

"Thank you for all your help, Quinn."

"Save your thanks until we successfully pull off this crazy scheme," Quinn warned as she moved toward the door of the guest bedroom, turning back around to add, "…oh and girls…please keep the reunion quiet tonight…my mom is not _that_ sound of a sleeper."

"HaHa…but I am locking this door…just in case...," Santana joked, moving behind her to lock the door, "Goodnight, Quinn."

"Sweet lady-kissing dreams, Quinn," Brittany added with a giggle.

Quinn turned back around, deadpanned, "You are not funny. Goodnight."

* * *

><p>Brittany watched as Santana kicked off her sneakers then pulled off her pants. The blonde noted that Santana must have changed out of the lightweight hospital slippers when she went up to her bedroom at the Berrys. She smiled when the dark-haired beauty turned around and caught her staring.<p>

"Do I look as awful as I feel?" Santana asked.

"Worse…," Brittany teased with a twinkle in her bright blue eyes.

"Geez…thanks, love…," Santana retorted as she pulled her t-shirt over her head and let it fall to the ground with the pants Brittany had given her at the hospital.

"Now you look better," Brittany winked, enjoying the sight of Santana's exposed breasts.

Santana crawled under the covers next to the blonde's warm body, immediately curling her arms around Brittany, laying her cheek against her smooth, exposed skin.

Brittany reached up a long arm to pull the silver chain on the bedside lamp, leaving the spacious guest room softly lit by moonlight coming in through the shear curtains on the oversized window. She lowered her arm and wrapped it tightly around Santana.

"I missed you so much," Santana told her, hearing her voice echo slightly against Brittany's chest.

There was no response which seemed odd to the Latina, but as she lay there next to Brittany, she heard soft sniffling.

"Hey…are you crying, babe?" Santana lifted her head to look up at Brittany.

"I'm sorry…," Brittany said as she wiped at her face.

"Why are you upset?" Santana kissed her lightly then laid her cheek against Brittany's cheek.

"I thought you were going to die, Tan…and then I thought if you did then I might as well just die right along with you," Brittany's voice caught in her throat.

"I am so sorry…I never meant to scare you or hurt you like that," Santana teared up at the pain she caused the person she loved the most, "I was just being stupid…and weak."

"You aren't stupid or weak, honey…but, I don't know…," Brittany squeezed tighter for emotional support, "…maybe Daniel is right…maybe you do need more help than you're getting."

Santana closed her eyes and allowed herself to be held tightly by Brittany for a minute or two, thinking. "Will you go with me to see Dr. Shane tomorrow? I have an appointment at eleven."

"Anything, honey…anything at all," Brittany assured her, "I love you so much…I just want you to get better."

Silence hung briefly in the air before Santana asked, "Do you even remember what it felt like for things to be simple?"

Brittany didn't answer at first, thinking of nights when the two of them would just hold each other for simple comfort until they both fell asleep…even before their private time together became more complex with sex. "Do you know something I remember…?" she offered.

"Tell me…," Santana wanted desperately to remember those days.

"I remember nights when you would spoon me from behind…you were so warm and so protective…and right as I would fall asleep, I'd feel you kiss me on the back of my neck…it always sent electricity down my spine."

Santana instantly flushed, her secret finally brought to the surface, but she paused...mentally reminding herself it no longer mattered if it was a secret. Those feelings never needed to be hidden ever again. She was holding the only thing in the world that matter, and she could freely kiss her anytime she wanted.

Santana lifted her head and kissed Brittany softly on her neck, a warm feeling rushing through her entire body, then she placed her head back down on Brittany's shoulder, asking, "You really felt those?"

Brittany pulled Santana even closer to her chest, closing her tired eyes and thinking back, she confirmed, "Every single time."

* * *

><p><strong>Author<strong>**'****s****note**: I do try to get these updates done quickly, but we are at a point in this story where there is a lot going on. I appreciate your patience. I also really appreciate your feedback. It keeps me motivated to know what you guys are thinking, so please take a moment to leave a review. (oh, and the song in this chapter is Colbie Caillat, Brighter Than the Sun) Thank you to each one of you! Kim


	14. Chapter 14

** Her ****Smile ****Heals ****Me** (part 14)

_Oh what the hell she says_

_I just can't win for losing_

_And she lays back down..._

_Man there's so many times_

_I don't know what I'm doin'_

_Like I don't know now..._

_By the light of the moon, she rubs her eyes_

_Says it's funny how the night can make you blind_

_I can just imagine..._

_And I don't know what I'm supposed to do_

_But if she feels bad then I do too_

_So I let her be..._

_And she says ooh I can't take no more_

_Her tears like diamonds on the floor_

_And her diamonds bring me down_

_Cause I can't help her now..._

_She's down in it_

_She tried her best but now she can't win_

_It's hard to see them on the ground_

_Her diamonds falling down, way down..._

_She sits down and stares into the distance_

_And it takes all night_

_And I know I could break her concentration_

_But it don't feel right..._

_By the light of the moon, she rubs her eyes_

_Sits down on the bed and starts to cry_

_And there's something less about her..._

_And I don't know what I'm supposed to do_

_So I sit down and I cry too_

_But don't let her see…_

Brittany sat on the bathroom floor in the middle of the night with her knees pulled to her chest and her head resting on her propped arms. She rubbed at her temples to massage her aching head as she listened to music on her phone through her white headphones. Even though she tried to calm her stomach by taking slow, even breaths, concentrating on the music playing in her ears, she was overtaken with another tingling down her jawline. That sensation was immediately followed by the taste of bile at the back of her mouth. She yanked on the wire of her headphones to pull them out quickly while sitting up and leaning toward the toilet, throwing up mostly air.

There was a sharp knock on the bathroom door while Brittany dry-heaved into the toilet, her eyes watering as she gagged loudly.

"Yeah?" Brittany said weakly, trying to catch her breath, pulling some toilet paper off the roll to wipe at her mouth.

"It's Quinn…is everything alright?" the voice said from the other side of the door.

Brittany paused a moment, waiting for her stomach muscles to stop convulsing, before reaching up to flush the toilet then she crawled over to the door to unlock it.

"What's going on?" Quinn asked with concern as she pushed on the opened door, "I thought I heard gagging…are you sick?"

"Yeah," Brittany confirmed crawling back over nearer the toilet, leaning back against the tub.

"You look miserable," Quinn told her with a grimace.

"I've been puking up my soul for like an hour now."

Quinn opened the cabinet underneath the sink and pulled out a small, paper cup from a stack of them, filling it with water then kneeling next to Brittany.

"Try this," she coaxed.

"Thanks…," Brittany said as she took the tiny cup and swallowed a small amount of the liquid in it, "…hopefully it'll stay down."

"Maybe you should see a doctor?" Quinn asked.

"I'll be okay…," Brittany took a deep breath, "…I'm getting used to this anyway."

"Have you been getting sick a lot, Britt?"

The taller blonde paused before saying, "I just have a lot on my mind."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Brittany took another small sip of the water. Quinn watched her dear friend, and she could see Brittany's hands trembling as she avoided answering.

"Brittany…?"

"I fucked up, Quinn."

"What do you mean?"

"I made a really **stupid** choice about Santana leaving the hospital…I only created _more_ problems for her…for everyone."

"You were only trying to protect her…that's not stupid, Britt…that's love."

There was a pause between the friends before Brittany asked, "Quinn…do you think it's possible to love someone _too_ much?"

"I don't know…can anyone have an overabundance of love?"

"But like…to where it's harmful?"

"Yeah, I suppose you can…," Quinn hated seeing Brittany under so much stress, especially when Brittany was the reliable ray of sunshine for the group of them, "….who is it harming though, Britt? Santana…or you?"

"She should have stayed…I realize that now…," Brittany confessed further, wiping at the tears in her eyes, "…she needs help…help that I can't give her."

"You are the best thing in her life, Brittany."

Brittany lowered her eyes, running the pad of her thumb around the edge of the paper cup, pondering whether to reveal her internal struggle. She looked up into Quinn's caring, green eyes then said, "I ignored her, Q."

"Santana?"

"The night she overdosed…I didn't take her call...," she started crying, "…I'm supposed to love and take care of her…but I ignored her when she needed me most."

"Why?" Quinn asked sympathetically.

"Cause I was being selfish."

"I've never known you to be selfish, Britt."

"It's just that it was the first time in like a really long time that I was having fun… we were all just laughing and goofing around…," Brittany reflected, "…so when she called, I just let it go to voice mail."

"You didn't know what would happen," Quinn tried to make her feel better, caressing her left shoulder.

"That's just it…I never know what's going to happen anymore…," Brittany tried to put words to her thoughts, "I have loved Santana for so long now…all I want to do is be with her, Q…but I can't make sense of all this drama that eats away at us."

Quinn didn't say anything but pulled the taller blonde toward her to comfort her.

"Do you think it would be healthier for you two not to be together?"

Brittany took a deep breath as Quinn's question hung in the air. The burning sensation returned to the pit of her stomach, and Brittany leaned into it, wrapping her long arms around herself. "I think I'm going to be sick again," she warned Quinn, a cold sweat forming on her upper lip.

The shorter blonde watched the color drain from Brittany's face. "You need something to settle your stomach."

Quinn stood and moved toward the cracked bathroom door just as Brittany threw up the water she drank. She opened the door and ran right into Santana who had obviously been standing outside it.

"Is she ok?" she asked with a concerned tone, looking over Quinn's shoulder at Brittany.

"I'm going to see if we have any ginger ale in the pantry," Quinn whispered, stepping out into the hallway, "Just sit with her."

Santana eased herself down next to Brittany, rubbing softly on the curve of her back but not saying anything. Brittany instantly felt better under Santana's touch, and she sat back on the floor and put her pounding head in Santana's lap, shielding her eyes with her forearm from the harshness of the overhead light.

"I woke up and found you gone…," Santana told her sadly, "…I thought I dreamed you again." Santana had told Brittany of her vivid dream about them before they fell asleep, and Brittany had promised to reenact a version of it with Santana as soon as the Latina was feeling better.

"I'm not going anywhere, honey…," Brittany assured her in a very weak voice.

* * *

><p>"Good morning, Dad," Rachel entered the kitchen Wednesday morning, giving her father a squeeze from behind.<p>

Trey bent over to kiss his diminutive daughter on the cheek before responding, "Good morning, baby girl…coffee?"

"No, I need tea for my throat this morning," she told him, picking up the kettle from the back of the stove top and walking over to the sink to fill it with water, "I have lessons this morning."

"It's generous of Mrs. Bennett to let you tutor some of her students this summer," Trey said.

"I like working with the little ones…they're all so cute…," Rachel smiled broadly, setting her kettle on a burner and turning on the flame underneath it, "…not unlike a young Rachel Berry."

"You were never cute…," Daniel added to the conversation as he walked into the kitchen and grabbed a travel mug out of the drain board near the sink.

"Why do you say that, Daddy?" Rachel challenged him with a pout on her face.

"Because even as a toddler…you were too driven to be cute…," Daniel clarified with a chuckle, "…you were beautiful…but you were ruthless!"

Trey looked at his partner and shared in the laughter that came with the memory of their rising star, "Don't listen to him, pumpkin…you have always been perfectly adorable."

Rachel couldn't help but laugh with her dads, "Well, aren't you glad there weren't two of me?"

"Dear lord…what would we have done with more than one center of attention?" Daniel asked jovially.

"I may always want to be center of attention, but it never made me not want a sibling," Rachel confessed.

"Then I'm glad Santana arrived just in time to make your childhood complete," Trey added with a wink.

The laughter died off as each of them internally reflected on how quickly the young Latina fit into their family.

"I hate for her to go back into that house with those people when she is perfectly part of ours now," Rachel shared with her fathers.

Trey moved closer to his daughter and put his long arm around her shoulders, "Me too."

"I wish we could just adopt her and make it official so she doesn't have to worry about them anymore."

Daniel took a sip of coffee from his mug, contemplating Rachel's statement.

The doorbell rang, interrupting the pause that hung in the spacious kitchen.

"Who could that be this early?" Daniel asked rhetorically, looking at his watch. 8:21am.

"I'll get it," Rachel said.

"No…," Daniel stopped her with a cautious tone, "…I'll get it."

The kettle whistled, startling the three of them, followed by the doorbell again.

"You two stay here," Daniel said protectively.

Before Daniel reached the front door, the doorbell rang out again then again then again. By the time he reached it to unlock the deadbolt and turn the doorknob, the person on the other side was banging loudly on the wood.

Daniel twisted the knob and pulled open the door, revealing a very angry Dr. Lopez. "Where is she?" he said, pushing past the smaller man, "Santana!"

"She's not here, Hector…," Daniel told him, "Calm down."

"Santana!"

"You have no right to barge into our home," Trey said, stepping from inside the kitchen.

"Santana!" the heavier-set man continued to call out loudly, "I demand to see my daughter."

"Mr. Lopez, Santana isn't here," Rachel tried, her eyes wide with fright.

"Rachel…please go up to your room," Daniel instructed.

"Dad…."

"Rachel, please…," Daniel said, exasperated with the situation.

"Where has Santana been staying? Upstairs?" Dr. Lopez persisted, pushing Rachel out of the way as she walked toward the stairs.

"Hey! Don't put your hands on my daughter," Trey called out, following Dr. Lopez who moved quickly up the staircase. Trey's long legs caught up to the doctor at the top landing, and he told Santana's father, "You need to leave right now…Daniel, call the police!"

"Yes, call the police…you are keeping me from my child."

"Santana is not here…we are not hiding anything, Hector…," Daniel hollered from the bottom of the stairs while pulling out his cell phone, "That's what we told the officers last night, and nothing has changed."

"Then I want to collect her belongings…she will no longer be staying here," Dr. Lopez insisted as he tried to move past Trey who was doing his best to force him back down the stairs.

Daniel turned to Rachel and whispered, "Get your stuff and go on to work…before this gets worse."

Rachel nodded.

"And, Rach…," Daniel reached out and grabbed Rachel's forearm, saying to her in a hushed tone, "…I _will _find a way out of this for Santana."

* * *

><p>Quinn reached forward and pulled open the glass door then stepped aside to allow Brittany and Santana to walk through it.<p>

"We can wait over here," Quinn motioned to the waiting area just inside the building, walking over to a wooden coffee table, picking up a magazine, sitting down in a blue fabric-covered armchair, and crossing her legs.

Brittany looked back at Santana, still holding the Latina's hand, smiling sweetly, and said, "Good luck, honey."

Santana hesitated without releasing her grasp on Brittany's hand, responding, "I thought maybe you could go in with me."

Quinn looked up from her magazine just in time to catch a side-glance from the taller blonde.

"You don't have to…if you don't want to," Santana covered, feeling the tension in Brittany's pause.

"No, I want to…if you want me to…are you sure you want me to?" Brittany stammered.

"Yes," Santana confirmed, squeezing Brittany's hand.

Quinn watched as Santana led Brittany around the corner before looking back down and taking a deep breath. The morning had been difficult so far, Quinn acknowledged internally. None of them enjoyed solid sleep though they each desperately needed some. Brittany seemed a little better and had some color back in her cheeks after Quinn made her some dry toast before they left for the bank. Santana wasn't really eating either, still feeling the effects of the charcoal they made her drink at the hospital. It didn't help that Rachel called first thing to tell her Dr. Lopez had forced his way into their house, demanding to see Santana. Quinn's mind was spinning with worry for her former co-Cheerios as well as with her own newest personal developments.

The former cheerleader captain reached into the small, beige purse at her side and pulled out her cell phone, immediately going back into her texts:

CATE

10:54 PM

what are you thinking about now?

Quinn smiled and flushed lightly, looking at her response:

11:01 PM

You…can't stop.

CATE

11:02 PM

good then don't :) goodnight, Quinn

11:03 PM

Goodnight, Cate.

* * *

><p>Brittany felt horrible after being sick in the night. Her head was pounding which was making her edgy, and she knew Santana had picked up on that vibe. <em>Calm <em>_down_, she mentally told herself, taking in a breath and looking over at Santana as she knocked on the door in front of them.

The door was opened by an older woman the height of Brittany who had a warm smile of recognition on her face while saying, "Santana…come in."

Santana stepped inside the cozy office. "Dr. Shane…this is Brittany. I hope it's ok if she's with me today."

"Of course…whatever makes you comfortable. It is nice to have a chance to meet you, Brittany," the psychiatrist said, pulling her desk chair over next to the patient chair, "Please have a seat."

Brittany smiled politely at the doctor, sitting in the desk chair as Santana settled into the brown armchair next to her.

Dr. Shane sat across from the girls, crossing her legs at the knees and setting her memo pad in her lap. "How are you feeling?" she asked, having been contacted by the hospital about the overdose of the mediation she had prescribed.

The older woman noted the long pause that met her question. She watched both teens' body language as they shifted in their seats and looked at each other.

"Santana?" the doctor prompted.

"I'm pretty much a fugitive at this point," Santana revealed with an awkward smile.

"What do you mean by 'fugitive'?"

"I kinda broke out of the hospital last night…and now my father has the police looking for me."

"I see…," the doctor made a note on her writing pad before looking directly at the young Latina, "…this is very serious, Santana. I'm going to be honest with you…I have an ethical obligation to notify your parents that you are here."

"I came to you for help!" Santana sat up on the edge of her seat.

"Take a deep breath…," Dr. Shane motioned calmly, "…I _want _to help you, Santana."

The older woman watched closely as Brittany reached over and caressed Santana's back and the dark-haired girl relaxed again into her chair. She made another notation on her yellow pad then set her pen down and removed her reading glasses form the tip of her nose.

"You are comforted by Brittany's presence, aren't you?" the doctor observed aloud.

"Yes…," Santana answered her then looked over at the beautiful blonde to her right, "…but I know that's a heavy burden for her."

Dr. Shane watched the dynamic between the teens alter as Santana leaned away slightly. Brittany looked down, a burning sensation flaring in the pit of her stomach.

"Brittany…?"

She paused momentarily. "There isn't anything I wouldn't do for Santana…," she stated, pulling her hand back into her lap.

"Including risking her own future…," Santana added sadly.

"In what way?" Dr. Shane asked.

"She cut out on her dance camp to come home…," Santana explained, "…her parents don't know."

"You needed me…it was worth it," Brittany said softly in Santana's direction.

"Is it worth your own sanity?" Santana challenged.

Brittany swallowed hard as those words hung in the air. She fidgeted with a band-aid she had on the middle finger of her right hand.

"Brittany…?" Dr. Shane prodded gently.

"Loving Santana has never been a simple thing," Brittany confessed, fresh tears forming in her blue eyes.

Santana looked up at the therapist across from them then over at Brittany, "…then why do you?"

"Because…there is a part of you that you don't let anyone else see…that tender, super affectionate side of you…you save that just for me…," Brittany said softly, "…and it makes me feel special."

"You've always been special…," Santana reached over and took Brittany's left hand in hers, "…but you're slowly losing that special part of you…and now it's _because _of me."

"Do you feel that's true, Brittany?" the therapist asked directly.

Brittany diverted her eyes, but confirmed, "…I feel powerless lately…like I'm fighting a battle I'll never win."

"It's made her physically sick…," Santana added, her voice catching in her throat, "…**I****'****ve** made her physically sick."

Dr. Shane watched the two girls in front of her, both wiping at tears falling down their attractive faces. She picked up a square Kleenex dispenser from her side table and leaned forward to offer them each a tissue.

"You are both feeling pretty broken right now, aren't you?" the doctor stated, setting the box back on her table.

Brittany and Santana both nodded and dabbed at their eyes with their tissues.

The therapist sighed heavily with sympathy on her kind face. "Well, I can see how much you love each other."

"But that doesn't seem like enough sometimes," Santana cried, remembering Brittany's words she overheard from outside the bathroom.

"Santana…what were you thinking about on the night you overdosed?" the doctor asked her.

The question took the young Latina by surprise, causing her to hesitate.

"Santana…you need to be able to answer this question in order to get better."

"I've answered this question…dozens of times."

"Answer it again please."

Dr. Shane could see the teenager was mentally tormented on the topic, but she pushed anyway, "Santana…give me an answer…what went through your mind right before you swallowed those pills?"

"I just wanted it all to stop, okay?" Santana choked out through tears, "All of it! The rape, being gay, my parents…being a disappointment to everybody in my life…for one second, it made sense that everybody would be better off with not having to deal with me any longer…and then that second was over…and it was too late go back."

Brittany leaned and wrapped her arms around Santana, pulling the brunette into her embrace.

"Santana…you need more intense counseling…," Dr. Shane informed her, "…you need to retrain your thinking to see your own self-worth again…to assist you down a path of self-acceptance."

"What are you saying?" Santana challenged.

"We need to work _with _your parents…to come up with a plan to move forward."

"You're going to sell me out to them?" Santana's face fell, "I _trusted_ you…and you were just setting me up!"

"I'm doing what is in your best interest as my patient."

"You're just like everyone else!"

Santana stood quickly and darted toward the door. Brittany looked at the doctor with wide eyes, not knowing what to do other than follow after her girlfriend.

Before she left the therapist's office, she turned back around to say, "She does trust you…_**please **_don't ruin that for her."

* * *

><p>Quinn followed Brittany and Santana into the parking lot, pulling her car key out of her purse and pressing the remote to unlock it.<p>

"That was fast," Quinn commented, looking down at her watch. 11:33 am. She opened the driver's door to her Jetta and slid into the seat, buckling her seatbelt.

Brittany watched Santana get into the back passenger seat, but she wanted to sit next to her so she rounded the back of the car and got in behind Quinn, telling the shorter blonde, "Yeah…it didn't go that great actually."

"What happened?" Quinn inquired, looking at her passengers in her rearview mirror as she backed her car out of the parking space. She saw Brittany look over at Santana who just continued to look down at her crossed arms. Quinn looked back ahead of her, putting the car into drive and pulling out of the lot onto Lockwood.

"Dr. Shane…," Brittany started.

"I don't want to talk about it!" Santana interrupted loudly.

"What is your problem?" Quinn asked boldly, looking back at Santana in the mirror.

Santana's head shot up, "**You** are…all of you are!"

"Hey…that's unfair…," Brittany reacted.

"You know what, Santana…_we_ are not your problem…," Quinn turned it back on the fiery Latina, "…we're _trying_ to be your solution…if you'll just meet us halfway."

"You don't know shit about what my problems are, Quinn!"

"Yeah, I do… YOU are your problem…and now you've become everyone else's."

"Quinn, stop…," Brittany implored.

"No, I'm sick of this 'woe is me' attitude… you don't have to be the victim the rest of your life."

"I AM THE VICTIM HERE!" Santana screamed toward Quinn, "I was raped!"

"Oh please…you were like this long before you were raped…angry and defensive…pushing everybody away…," Quinn didn't hold back with her old friend as she slowed her car at a red light, "…and now, you finally have what you _always_ wanted…and you're destroying it!"

"You don't know anything, Quinn Fabray," Santana said coldly.

"I know that your girlfriend was up half the night puking her guts up because she's so worried about you."

"Quinn, please stop…you're only hurting her more," Brittany interjected.

"No, it's fine, Britt…she kisses a girl ONE time and suddenly she's an expert on girlfriends…so let her say whatever she's going to say," Santana spat out with venom.

Quinn turned around in her seat as best she could to look directly at Santana then said, "It was **twice**, smartass…and I may not be an expert on _any_ kind of relationship…but I'm an expert on you two."

"Well, congratulations then," Santana crossed her arms again over her chest and shifted to look out her window, her anger so palpable it filled the interior of the car.

Brittany looked out her passenger window, some sort of motion catching the corner of her eye. She turned her head further to see a blue Sienna van next to them at the light and a very familiar blonde child waving enthusiastically at her.

"Shit, my mom!" Brittany exclaimed as she ducked down in her seat, sliding as far as she could.

Santana instinctively ducked too.

"Where?" Quinn asked frantically, turning back around.

"Right next to us…my sister saw me," Brittany told her, her head bent at a weird angle.

Quinn banged her frustration on the black steering wheel in front of her, "This is the longest red light in history!"

"Don't look over," Brittany pleaded.

"Just act normal, Quinn," Santana said, exasperated with the entire circumstance, "Nobody's after you!"

The moment the light turned green, Quinn eased her foot off the brake and down onto the gas. She drove several paces ahead of the blue van then unexpectedly turned right at the next intersection.

"We're ok…she kept driving," Quinn announced.

As soon as Quinn turned the Jetta off the main street, the cell phone in Brittany's pocket buzzed. The tall blonde pulled out the phone and looked at the incoming caller, "Fuck, it's my mom."

"Don't answer it," Santana said with a sharp tone, sitting up again.

"Do you think I should, Quinn?"

"Answer it."

"Fine, don't listen to me…," Santana snapped.

Brittany unlocked the phone on the last buzz, "...Hello?"

"Brittany, it's Mom," the voice said.

"I know who it is, Mom."

"How's camp going today?"

"Huh? Camp?" Brittany was confused, "...it's um...a lot of work…tiring."

"I'm sure...but you're a hard worker," her mom said flatly, "In fact, your dad and I are so proud of everything you've accomplished that we've been tossing around the idea of coming up to see your group performance this weekend...that wouldn't embarrass you, would it?"

"Embarrass me? No, of course not," Brittany's brow furrowed at the strangeness of the discussion.

Santana looked over at her girlfriend, confused by her end of the conversation.

"Good!" Mrs. Pierce said excitedly, "...So we'll see you on Saturday then, sweetie."

"Yeah, great," Brittany swallowed hard.

"Oh, and Brittany...," her mother added before hanging up, "...be sure to tell Santana and Quinn I said hi."

Brittany's stomach instantly tightened as the call ended. "She knows."

"What did she say?" Santana asked.

"Quinn – please pull over…I'm gonna be sick."

Quinn turned into the nearest parking lot, pulling to the side away from any of the other cars, and stopped the Jetta under a nearby tree. Before Quinn could even put the engine in park, Brittany jumped out and circled around the car, throwing up behind the trunk of the tree.

Santana and Quinn both got out of the car to check on her. Santana put her arm around Brittany as she straightened up and wiped at her mouth with the side of her hand.

"I've gotta get back…they're going to Michigan this weekend," Brittany told them, "…oh god, they're going to kill me."

"I'll drive you back," Quinn assured her, "You'll get back there…you'll dance your butt off then you'll explain everything to them this weekend."

Santana looked hard at Quinn then turned abruptly and started walking purposefully across the parking lot.

"Where are you going?" Brittany called after her.

"Let her go, Britt…," Quinn suggested with irritation in her voice, "…she's just being dramatic…as usual."

"I can't...," Brittany said, running as best she could to catch up to Santana, "…Santana, stop!"

Santana slowed her pace to let Brittany catch up to her, "Babe, please just go back to Michigan."

"Come with me."

"No…do the best thing for yourself…," Santana implored, "…for once, you need to take care of _**you**_."

"Where are you going, Santana?" Quinn asked from a couple of feet behind them.

Santana stopped and turned around, "Don't worry about me, Quinn…you don't have to be my _solution_ anymore."

"Oh grow the fuck up, Santana…," Quinn shouted at her, turning back around, "Come on, Britt."

Brittany looked at Santana with tears in her eyes.

"Please just go," Santana told her.

Brittany knew the best thing to do was to go with Quinn, but she couldn't make her feet move.

"JUST GO!" Santana shouted angrily.

The harshness in the brunette's voice startled Brittany, causing her to visibly jump.

"Come on, Brittany," Quinn called out to her from beside the car.

Brittany sniffed back tears. "I love you, Santana…nothing in this world will change that," she told her before turning to walk toward Quinn's car.

Santana stood firmly and watched the two blondes get into the car, both doors slamming shut, before Quinn quickly drove away. Santana suddenly felt physically limp, all the bitterness and nervous energy draining out of her slim body. She had no other thought in her head than the overwhelming sensation that her world just crumbled around her. Literally without any place to go, Santana sat down on the nearby curb and sobbed. 

* * *

><p>Author's note: The song in scene 1 is Her Diamonds by Rob Thomas (of Matchbox Twenty).<p> 


	15. Chapter 15

**Her Smile Heals Me **(part 15)

**April 2009**

Santana pushed the digital buttons on the front of the microwave to start it then turned to a nearby cabinet to pull out a large, plastic bowl. She stepped over to the refrigerator with a clear cup and added some crushed ice to it from the automatic ice dispenser on its front door, turning around and filling the cup with soda. The microwave timer sounded that her popcorn was ready so she pulled out the bag, grabbing it at the edge because of how hot it was. She ripped open the red bag, careful not to burn her face with the escaping steam, and poured the white, fluffy kernels into the large bowl.

She started toward the staircase when the doorbell rang. Shifting the oversized bowl to balance with the same arm as she held her drink, she moved toward the front door and pulled up on her toes to look out the peephole.

Opening the wooden door, Santana said, "I thought you weren't coming?"

"I never said that...," Brittany responded with a huge smile, stepping out of the snowfall and into the warmth of Santana's house. She quickly brushed off the powdery snowflakes onto the entryway rug then tugged off her mittens and removed her coat, hanging it on one of the mounted hooks by the doorway. "It's cold out there…it just started snowing," she told Santana who turned to walk back toward the stairs.

"I was headed to my room," the Latina stated dryly.

"Is that popcorn?" Brittany excitedly flitted up behind her, reaching around to snatch a handful of the kernels, "Yum."

"My parents are out…I got hungry."

"This is your dinner?" Brittany asked, following Santana up the stairs and around the corner to her bedroom, "You really need to eat more, Santana."

"I was going to order a pizza when you got here…but it got late," Santana stressed the second part.

"Wait, are you mad at me?" Brittany pulled off her sneakers and closed Santana's bedroom door behind them, "I thought I told you I had plans with Puck then I'd be here after that."

Santana sat her drink down on a coaster on her bedside table then settled cross-legged on her bed, her bowl of popcorn in her lap, "_Puck_? No…I think I'd remember that."

"I think you only hear about half of what I say," Brittany said teasingly, circling the bed to the opposite side from Santana and unbuttoning her Levi's.

"What are you doing?" Santana asked, her brow furrowing.

"My jeans got wet from the snow," Brittany said matter-of-factly, pulling the denim off and laying them over Santana's desk chair, "…see…now they'll dry."

Santana licked at her plump lips and swallowed hard as she watched Brittany in her underwear move from the desk to the television where she picked up the remote and returned to the bed. She cast her glance downward once she consciously realized she was watching the muscles in the blonde's long legs and the exposed part of her backside that showed from under her blue panties.

"Did you want some sweatpants?" Santana offered, looking down at her bowl.

"Nah, I'm getting under the covers…," Brittany responded, pulling back Santana's black bedspread and sliding under it then reaching for another handful of popcorn, "I really love your new room, Tan…I still can't believe we convinced your mom to let us paint it black."

"Yeah, she makes a comment every time she comes in now," Santana paused before adding, "So, Britt…what's going on with you and Puck? Are you two dating?"

"Sex is not dating, Santana…you taught me that," Brittany grinned and grabbed another handful of popcorn.

Santana was quiet a moment, processing a sudden influx of thoughts.

"Why?" Brittany realized there was a serious look on her best friend's face, "Do you have feelings for him? Cause I would never want to get in _your_ way of dating him."

"Um, no…I mean…we have fun sometimes…I guess," Santana reflected momentarily then regrouped, adding in a more carefree tone, "No, whatever, it's cool…sex is not dating…so I don't care."

"Something's bothering you…what's going on?"

Santana set her mostly-empty bowl down on the floor beside the bed. "Do you ever get tired of having sex with these guys?"

"It's ok, I guess…it's usually over so fast anyway," Brittany shrugged, "It makes us popular…and that makes Coach Sylvester happy…so it works out…right?"

"Right…I guess," Santana answered, picking up her cup to take a sip of soda then handing the cup to Brittany, "Want some?"

The popularity was really the only focus for Santana too. Anytime she was with Puck or any of the other faceless high school jocks, the act of sex was pretty mindless for her. Half the time she thought about what all she needed to do once she got out there…homework, laundry, cheer practice…and the other half the time she thought about…Santana looked to her immediate right and saw the blonde next to her. The brunette innately drew in a deep breath that caught in her chest as a sudden heat moved swiftly through her entire body.

"I do wish guys knew how to kiss better though...," Brittany took a sip then another before handing the cup back to Santana, "I really like kissing…but none of them are any good at it."

"I try not to kiss them too much," Santana revealed.

"Most guys are all open mouth and tongue…just sloppy yuck," Brittany frowned.

"True…and I don't need to be slobbered all over like I'm making out with a St. Bernard," Santana felt physically repulsed at the thought.

"There's actually an art to kissing," Brittany stated with a smile, "I think I'm pretty good at it."

"You do, huh?" Santana giggled.

"Yes…want me to demonstrate?" Brittany asked innocently.

Santana's face froze, thoughts flying through her head. _Wait, what did she just say_? _There is no way she just asked if I want her to kiss me_, Santana told herself. _Or did she_? _This is insane_. _Take a deep breath, Santana_…

"Santana?" Brittany prompted with a slight nudge.

"Huh?" the Latina blinked several times, coming back to the reality of the bed, and her best friend in her bed, and her best friend's offer of kissing her in her bed, "Yeah…show me."

Brittany smiled at the friendly challenge before leaning over and placing a gentle kiss on Santana's lips.

The amount of electricity Santana felt from just that one kiss was overwhelming to the 15-year-old, and she swallowed hard but said nothing.

"Wait though…I can do better than that," Brittany smiled, "I need a better angle…lay back."

_Oh god_…Santana suddenly felt dozens of butterflies in the pit of her stomach, but she allowed herself to be pushed back against the pillow behind her. The next sensation Santana felt was Brittany shifting in the bed until she was slightly on top of her followed by the blonde's hands up around her jawline, pulling her into a solid kiss. Santana opened her lips further to allow Brittany to deepen the kiss. The two girls maneuvered their lips and hands…_not at all sloppy_, Santana mentally noted…then unexpectedly, Santana felt Brittany slip her tongue into her mouth. The brunette instantly felt an intense heat deep in her groin as the best friends continued to kiss for several minutes.

Brittany broke the kiss, raising up slightly on her left elbow and smiling, "See…I'm a good kisser, huh?"

Santana had to shake clear the fog in her head before she could verbalize an answer. "Yes…excellent."

"You are too," Brittany told her encouragingly, "You sure you don't kiss those guys more than you admit?" Brittany giggled at her own little joke.

"None of them kiss like that," Santana felt her entire body tremble.

"Are you cold?" Brittany asked, sensing the nuance of her best friend's body below her.

"No…too warm actually," Santana didn't want to sweat from her building, internal heat, starting to unbutton the top couple of buttons on her red, plaid flannel shirt.

"Ohhh…I've got you all hot and bothered, huh?" the blonde teased playfully, "Here…take this off."

_This is not happening_, Santana repeated several times in her head but still sat up slightly to remove the shirt once Brittany unbuttoned the bottom portion, revealing her white, ribbed tank underneath it.

"Better?" Brittany asked.

"Thanks," Santana said, tossing it down to the floor.

"I really like kissing you," Brittany stated bluntly.

Santana found herself nodding but no sound was coming out of her open mouth. So many times before this moment, Santana had looked at her best friend's mouth and envisioned what her lips would taste like, never believing it would ever actually happen. Brittany's lips were like nothing she could have imagined. They were soft and smooth, and her kisses were delicate but purposeful.

"I like kissing you too," Santana responded, nearly breathless.

Brittany leaned forward and kissed the Latina again.

* * *

><p><strong>June 2011<strong>

Mrs. Lopez opened the top drawer on Santana's dresser and placed a stack of freshly washed and neatly folded t-shirts inside it, pushing it closed. She ran an extended index finger across the top of the dresser, picking up several weeks worth of undisturbed dust. Her heart sank at the realization of how long her only child had been gone from their home.

She moved over to push in Santana's desk chair slightly and straighten the throw pillows on her bed, picking one of them up and taking in a deep breath, knowing how much it smelled like her daughter. Tears formed in her dark brown eyes. She turned and sat down on the side of Santana's bed to steady herself. A silver-framed picture of the former Cheerio caught her eye, and she reached out a hand to pick it up off the bedside table.

Mrs. Lopez ran her finger delicately over the glass-protected face of her beautiful daughter, happily-clad in her cheerleading uniform. She mentally reflected that Santana had always been a beautiful child with thick, dark hair and large, chocolate eyes that always held a bit of mystery behind them. Her mother recalled how independent and stubborn Santana had always been growing up, always wanting to do things for herself, without any assistance. Mrs. Lopez had always wanted a daughter she could doll up in fancy dresses and bows. She had tried, in fact, to style Santana in that direction only to be met with further resistance when Santana insisted on more practical clothing.

The older Latina set the frame back on the nightstand, remembering when they allowed Santana to pick out the dark-colored wooden furniture. She looked around the room at the jet black walls and laughed. "I always _hated _this color, Santana," she said aloud.

She pulled on the tiny, silver knob to open the drawer of the bedside table, digging through it out of curiosity. She pulled out a paperback book and thumbed through it, realizing she really knew nothing of Santana's interests in books or movies, none of the little details that mothers should know about their children. A deep sadness washed over her at how distant she had become from her child over the last several years.

Tucked into the middle of the book were three photographs. Mrs. Lopez pulled them out, seeing they were of Santana with Brittany. The first one was of the girls in their red and white Cheerios uniforms, standing together after a cheer team competition. The second one was of Brittany giving Santana a piggy-back ride, both of them laughing and obviously having a good time. Mrs. Lopez touched Santana's face in the picture, tears welling up in her aging eyes over the loss of her child's happier days.

She moved that picture to the back of the group to reveal the final image, her breath instantly catching in her chest. The third photograph was of the two girls in a tighter embrace, kissing each other sweetly on the lips, the New York City skyline behind them. Mrs. Lopez turned the photo over. On the back, Brittany had written in red ink: I love you a million times over! Britt

Santana's mother studied the third picture, focusing on every detail of it until she realized she was looking at the youthful faces of true love. It was the same illustration of love Mrs. Lopez picked up on when Santana was in the hospital after the rape. She watched Brittany that week keep a vigil over Santana's bedside every day until she was released, having to be reminded to eat and sleep. That was when Santana's mom finally grasped that there was more than friendship in Brittany's eyes.

"Well, Noah Puckerman says he hasn't seen her either," a masculine voice stated behind Mrs. Lopez, shaking her from her memory.

She turned around to find her husband standing in the doorway of Santana's room

"I talked to Judy Fabray earlier…she hasn't seen her recently, but Quinn wasn't home…," she told him, "…she said she would talk with her as soon as she could and get back with me."

"This is getting ridiculous…somebody is covering her whereabouts, and I'll be damned if I will be made a fool of in this town."

"Hector, this is no longer about you…our daughter is out there somewhere…and she desperately needs help," Mrs. Lopez tried to remind him.

"Our daughter brought this on herself," Dr. Lopez retorted.

"I never should have let you send her away," the older Latina said sadly.

"She has only brought shame to this family."

"She is struggling, Hector…no different than you and I did when we first married…_against_ your mother's wishes."

"My mother had no issue with our marriage," he challenged.

Santana's mother laughed, "You do have short a memory then…she _hated_ me for getting pregnant…shaming _your_ family and trapping you, she always said, when all she wanted was for you to go to medical school."

Dr. Lopez swallowed hard, "Well…I continued on to medical school despite our untimely marriage, did I not?"

"Yes…but she hated me more when I had a miscarriage…or have you forgotten our son too?"

Dr. Lopez looked down at his feet and shifted but did not say anything.

Mrs. Lopez thumbed back through the photographs she held in her aging hands, tears falling from her eyes, "…and now we've lost our daughter too."

* * *

><p>Cate slowed down to turn into Quinn's driveway, pulling the Jetta up next to her motorcycle that was parked to the side of the garage.<p>

"Hey, wake up…," Cate gently shook Quinn.

"Huh? Did I fall asleep?" she said groggily, sitting up in the passenger seat, "What time is it?"

"Late...," Cate said, looking at the time on the digital clock set inside the dash to see that it was 1:28 AM.

"That's such a long drive to make there and back in one day…thank you so much for going with me and Brittany," Quinn told Cate as she opened the passenger door to get out.

"Yeah, over ten hours in a car in one day is brutal…my neck is killing me," Cate confirmed, circling around the front of the car to close Quinn's door behind her, "But I don't mind…with such good company."

"Company who slept the last two hours?" Quinn self-chided, linking her arm through Cate's as they walked up the path to the front porch.

The tall brunette handed Quinn her keys so she could open the front door, unintentionally yawning, "Sorry…tired."

Quinn leaned to kiss Cate lightly on the lips. Seeing how weary her eyes were, she told her, "Ok, you're in no condition to drive home on a motorcycle."

"No worries…I'll be fine."

"Yes, worries…come with me…," Quinn pulled the older girl inside the house with her.

Cate dutifully followed behind Quinn up the large staircase, stopping when the blonde paused at the top to turn and motion down the left side of the hallway, "Shhh…my mom's room is down there."

The two continued to the right until they were inside Quinn's spacious bedroom.

"Make yourself comfortable," she told Cate with a smile as she moved into the interior restroom, "I'll be out in a minute."

Cate smiled back, watching Quinn disappear behind the closed door.

The brunette slid her hands into the front pockets of her ripped jeans and shifted her stance. Standing there alone, she felt awkward and didn't really know what to do. She looked around the room, mentally noting that the elegant blue and white décor matched the image of the refined teenager whom she so desperately wanted to know more about. Cate saw a large bookcase on a side wall which was filled with hardback books. She noticed a few framed pictures on a small table next to a white arm chair and stepped across the room to pick one of them up, smiling as she looked into the face of a younger Quinn Fabray.

Cate was setting the frame back down when she heard the restroom door open, and she turned around to see Quinn had changed into a pink gown and washed the makeup from her face.

"I'm hoping you're too tired to remember tomorrow what I look like without makeup," Quinn joked with a slight edge of vulnerability.

"I think you look stunning," Cate responded honestly, nervously sliding her hands back into her jeans' pockets.

"Ahh, then you _are_ tired…," Quinn laughed and crossed the room to put her arms around Cate, hugging her, "I thought I said make yourself comfortable?"

"I'm comfortable…," Cate removed her hands from her pockets to wrap them around Quinn, "…_this_ is comfortable."

"At least take your shoes off," Quinn said, stepping back to look down at Cate's feet.

"Okay," the older girl smiled.

While Cate kicked off her Doc Marten boots, Quinn walked over and turned on her bedside lamp then walked to the wall to turn off the overhead light.

"Sooo…um…I'll just chill out over here then," Cate motioned to the arm chair.

"No, you can't get decent sleep fully clothed in a chair all night...come on, the bed is plenty big to share," Quinn took Cate by the hand, leading her over to the bed. She turned toward the older girl and suggested, "Feel free to take this off," as she tugged on Cate's button down, blue-plaid shirt.

Cate cautiously unbuttoned the buttons on the front of her shirt, removing it to reveal a black tank top underneath, and tossed it gently to the side.

"Ok, now these…don't be bashful," Quinn winked, motioning to Cate's pants.

Cate paused a second, thinking that she was probably blushing at this point, then unzipped her baggy jeans and stepped out of them, revealing a pair of gray boxer briefs.

"See…better, right?" Quinn teased, moving onto the bed, crossing over to the other side and patting the empty portion, "I promise not to kick you in my sleep."

The taller girl settled into the bed. She twisted her neck slightly to the left then to the right, feeling a deep ache in it.

"Is your neck still bothering you?" Quinn noticed.

"It's a little stiff."

"I'm sorry, I feel bad…I should have driven more than I did," she apologized with a frown.

"It's ok, really…it'll work itself out," Cate responded, stretching the muscles again.

"No, turn over and let me massage it for you."

Cate reluctantly turned over onto her stomach at Quinn's insistence. Quinn moved Cate's wavy hair to the opposite side then slowly but firmly massaged her neck and shoulder.

"What's the significance of your tattoo?" Quinn inquired, reading the inscription _**I Am the Captain of My Soul**_ inked at the base of Cate's neck.

"It's from the poem Invictus by William Ernest Henley."

"What's the poem?" Quinn asked, continuing to massage Cate's back.

"Out of the night that covers me,

Black as the Pit from pole to pole,

I thank whatever gods may be

For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance

I have not winced nor cried aloud.

Under the bludgeonings of chance

My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears

Looms but the Horror of the shade,

And yet the menace of the years

Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,

How charged with punishments the scroll…," Cate turned back over to look up at Quinn, finishing softly, "I am the master of my fate, I am the captain of my soul."

Quinn smiled sweetly at her, "That's beautiful."

"It got me through some very dark nights…," Cate confessed, "…until I finally convinced myself that I _am_ in control of my destiny…even if that destiny isn't exactly what I would like it to be."

Quinn paused in reflection. Cate watched as Quinn's mind took her away from the present for a moment, but once she returned, she said, "How old are you?"

"I turned 20 last month…but I'm like a cat…," Cate laughed, "I'm on about my fifth life at this point."

The blonde laughed with her, "Oh, well I'm glad I met you before you got to your ninth one."

"Nah, I'm on the right track now," the brunette assured her.

"I'm still really glad I met you," Quinn smiled, reaching over her to turn off the lamp, then she settled closely to the older girl, draping her arm across her chest and laying her head on her shoulder.

"Me too…," Cate confirmed, squeezing Quinn gently.

* * *

><p>"Hello?" Rachel answered her pink, sparkly phone Thursday night.<p>

"Rach…It's Britt."

"Brittany…how are you?"

"Did you get the dress?" Brittany inquired, "I was afraid to call my mom to ask."

"Yeah, I did…and my dad gave it to the police today."

"Good…I hope that will help the case against Karofsky."

"The district attorney said that they might be able to get enough evidence from it to issue a new search warrant," Rachel told her.

Brittany asked, "Did my mom say anything about me when you were there?"

"No, everything seemed fine…but it was best that you went back, Britt."

"I know…," Brittany paused, "…um, have you heard from Santana yet?"

"No…you haven't?" Rachel asked sadly.

"Nothing…," Brittany's heart sank in her chest, "Quinn hasn't either."

"We'll find her, Britt…my dads are looking, ok?"

* * *

><p>"Puck!" Quinn yelled out over the blasting of Arcade Fire and clanking of metal in the Puckerman garage.<p>

Setting his weights back on the frame, Puck sat up and said, "Sorry, didn't hear you walk up."

"I wonder why?" Quinn stated sarcastically.

Puck stood and turned off the loud music then grabbed a white towel off the nearby tool bench, wiping the sweat from his face and arms.

"What's up?" he asked.

"Have you seen Santana?"

"Not since last week…why?"

"We can't find her."

Puck set the towel down and leaned back against a work bench that was built into the wall. "I feel horrible about what happened," he confessed.

"I think we all do," Quinn said sadly.

"No, I mean…I gave her that alcohol...," he confessed, "…dumb, huh?"

Quinn drew in a deep breath then sat down on an old chair. "I feel horrible too…I got carried away with my 'tough love' approach…it totally backfired."

"I'm really worried about her…just when I think she's hit rock bottom, she finds a new bottom," he said, his voice thick with concern.

"Nobody's seen or heard from her in three days."

"We could go look for her together," he suggested, "I can get a quick shower."

"Oh, I can't…I'm meeting someone for lunch."

Puck looked her up and down, noting how nicely she was dressed, "…is this a date?"

Quinn smiled sheepishly, "…maybe."

"Quinn Fabray…hmm…so who's the lucky guy?" Puck teased.

Quinn hesitated before stating, "Cate Boyd."

"Cate? That's a weird name for a guy…what is he one of your parents' fancy country club peeps?"

"It's short for Catherine," Quinn shrugged.

Puck grimaced, running his large hand over his mohawk to flatten it, "EVEN WORSE. Damn, that dude is in for a _lifetime_ of locker room wedgies."

"That _dude_…is a girl, Noah."

Puck's jaw dropped and several seconds passed before he finally said, "What is it with you Cheerios? Is it the skirts? Cause I still think they are crunchy toast…I mean, they definitely give me a hard…."

"Puck! It's not the skirts…," Quinn interjected, "…we're just like everyone else…we're all trying to find the person we're meant to be with…it's just that for some of us, it's more complex."

"Okay…well, as long as 'Cate' treats you with the respect you deserve then…I promise to be nice…and not give her a wedgie," Puck winked at Quinn who smiled back. 

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note<strong>: I know everybody wants to know what's happened to Santana. Patience, grasshoppers. ;) I assure you Chapter 16 is already started and will most likely be out by next week. Be sure to let me know your thoughts on the various character developments. Thanks! KB


	16. Chapter 16

**Author's note: **I'm so glad that everyone seemed to enjoy the last couple of chapters. Thank you so much for your reviews and kind messages. Most of all, thank you to everyone who has recommended this story to other Brittana fans. :)

**Her Smile Heals Me (part 16)**

"And for you, Miss?"

Brittany looked at the menu, her eyes scanning back down the list of the restaurant's entrees. It was at least the fifth time she'd looked it over without anything sounding good to her. She looked back up to see both her mother and father staring across the table at her.

"Do you need another moment to look at the menu?" the waitress asked.

"No, um…I guess I'll just have the chicken soup," Brittany closed the menu and handed it to the waitress, thinking that might be something that wouldn't upset her stomach, because everything lately seemed to upset her stomach.

"You sure that's all you want, sweetie?" Mrs. Pierce asked with a furrowed brow, "Take advantage of a meal away from the cafeteria when you can."

"That'll be fine…thanks though," she confirmed with an awkward smile toward her parents on the other side of the booth.

"If I know my girl then she's saving room for a big slice of cake…right?" Brittany's dad teased.

"Maybe," she answered, smiling politely.

"Do you think your group is ready for tomorrow's performance?" her mom asked.

"Yes, I think so…this week's routines are definitely harder than last week's," Brittany told them, thinking to herself…_or maybe I'm just more distracted this week_.

"Then it sounds like you got back just in time to learn them," Mr. Pierce stated.

Brittany looked down at the table, nervously straightening her knife before fidgeting with the cloth napkin folded in her lap.

"Ok, let's not have this hanging over us our whole dinner…," Brittany's mom started, "…Brittany, I want you to look at me please."

Brittany looked up at her parents, a look of dread on her face, and swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly very dry.

"Your father and I are very disappointed with your choices this week."

"I know, Mom."

"Let me finish…for you to sacrifice your opportunity here is a risk we would never want you to take…which is, I'm sure, why you tried to hide it from us."

"Dealing with things truthfully is very important…and the fact that you lied is what is most disappointing," Mr. Pierce scolded.

Brittany's stomach started burning, and she leaned into it and grimace, "I tried to do the right thing by talking to my instructor first…I told her the truth…it _was_ a family emergency…Santana is my family."

"But you didn't tell us, B…and that's the one thing your mother and I have always tried to instill in you girls is that you never have to fear coming to us," her father emphasized.

"I'm sorry," Brittany said meekly.

"You may think we don't understand why you did what you did…but we do," her mother added, "We recognize how much you love Santana…that's why I called you as soon as I found out…and I went up to the hospital before I realized she wasn't there."

"I appreciate that you called, Mom…I really do…but that's not the same as _me_ being with her," Brittany pleaded her case.

"I know, sweetie…just next time trust us enough to tell us what you feel you need to do…," Mrs. Pierce explained, "…because there is not a worse feeling in the world than thinking your child is safe in one place just to find out she's actually in a different place."

"I understand…I really am sorry," Brittany told them.

"We know you are, B…we just want to make sure you use better judgment next time, ok?" her father said.

"Yeah, ok."

"We love you…so cheer up a little, and let's enjoy the weekend," he suggested as the waitress arrived to their table with their dinner.

* * *

><p>The doorbell sounded.<p>

"Mom - door!"

David Karofsky was stretched out on his living room couch, legs crossed at the ankles and channel-surfing through daytime television. His days had started to run together at this point in his house confinement. He was unsure whether it was Tuesday or Thursday or June or July. _Not that it really matters anyway_, he thought to himself. He had no place to be and nobody to talk with other than his parents, who he was afraid of, and his defense attorney, whom he thought was a scumbag.

He initially thought this whole ordeal would be done with and behind him in time to start two-a-day practice with the rest of the McKinley High football team at the end of the summer. His attorney kept assuring him it was only a matter of time before the case against him fell apart, since it was primarily a "He said, She said" situation all along. David grimaced and slightly flushed in a moment of mental self-incrimination.

The doorbell sounded again followed by a loud knock.

"Mom! The Door!" Dave stood and set down his bag of Cool Ranch Doritos then moved toward the entryway and yelled up the stairs. He had been instructed to never answer the door under his current circumstances, being told that staying out of the front line of defense was crucial for him.

A louder knock sounded at the door, startling David who was standing beside it. Karofsky could see movement outside the yellow-stained glass set inside the center of the decorative front door. He tried to look while avoiding being seen.

There was another forceful knock before he heard a loud voice announce, "Open up. Lima P.D."

David nervously reached for the knob to open the door, finally giving in to the authoritative instructions.

Immediately several uniformed officers stepped inside his house followed by police detectives.

"David, good to see you again…Detective Sheldon, you may remember...and Detective Mills," the suit-wearing officer reminded him with a big grin, showing his badge before returning it to his pocket and pointing behind him at his very tall partner.

"David," Detective Mills patted the large teen on the shoulder as he stepped inside the house, passing through the entryway into the living room and flashing his badge as well.

David nodded his recognition.

"Keeping up on your Judge Judy, I see...," Detective Mills referenced the show playing on the oversized television built into the wall, "Good choice…she an excellent source of legal knowledge."

"My dad isn't home right now…and my mom's upstairs."

"That's okay, buddy…we are here to serve this search warrant," Detective Sheldon told him, pointing toward the four uniformed officers who accompanied them, "Why don't you show these guys where you are keeping your car?"

"_My_ car?" David asked.

"Yes, your personal car," Detective Mills circled around behind David, squeezing his shoulder, and adding with a sarcastic smile, "…where all the magic happens, am I right?"

"It's in the garage," David swallowed hard.

"Great…lead the way," Detective Sheldon instructed.

The officers followed David through to the back of the house where the garage was set past the laundry room.

Detective Sheldon told Karofsky, "Why don't you step over there. Don't want to set off your monitor, right?"

"Watch him," Detective Mills motioned to one of the young, uniformed officers, as he followed the shorter detective into the attached garage.

Once inside the garage, another suit-clad man opened a large plastic box that resembled a tackle box but was filled with plastic gloves and long cotton swabs and little collection bottles and giant plastic zip bags.

Once all the investigators had their plastic gloves snapped into place, Detective Sheldon turned and announced, "Alright, we finally got enough 'show cause' to get access to this vehicle…let's make this a clean sweep, guys."

"We're not leaving here until each inch of this car is searched and every moldy french fry is bagged…got it?" Detective Mills added.

"What is going on," Mrs. Karofsky asked loudly, coming down the hallway, wearing a pink terrycloth bathrobe, "David?"

"I'm in here, Mom," David called out from the laundry room.

"David, I'll call your father…," she said over the shoulder of the uniformed office monitoring him, "You have no right to just come into our home like this…I'm calling our lawyer."

"You do that, Mrs. K…and let him know he needs to bring you a fresh copy of the Fourth Amendment for your reading pleasure…because this is called a search warrant, and we are not leaving until we find every scrap of evidence there is to find," Detective Mills held up a piece of paper in front of Mrs. Karofsky's face.

* * *

><p>"Daniel, did you hear me?" Trey asked as he stepped out of the bathroom inside their master bedroom. He saw his partner sitting up but leaning back against the padded leather headboard with a large red casebook on part of his lap and his laptop on the other part.<p>

"Daniel?" Trey tried again.

Daniel looked up to see his tall, handsome partner looking at him. He pushed his glasses back up off the tip of his nose and responded, "I'm sorry…what?"

"What has you so enthralled tonight? Do you have trial tomorrow?"

"No, this is personal research," Daniel smiled, running a hand through the loose, dark curls of his hair.

Trey turned the light out in the bathroom and moved toward the bed, removing his cotton robe and laying it over the wide arm of a bedside chair. He then got a squirt of lotion from a nearby silver dispenser which sat atop their large, ornate dresser, starting to rub his hands together to apply the lotion.

"Want some?" he asked Daniel before moving away from the dresser.

"Huh?"

"Lotion?" Trey asked again with a raised eyebrow, "It's very dry in here with the air conditioning running."

"No thanks…," Daniel said without looking up, typing on his laptop.

Trey circled around to his side of the king-sized bed, stopping momentarily at the end to step out of his gray slippers before crawling under the fluffy duvet. "What are you researching?"

"Emancipation…," Daniel told him, "…for Santana."

"Okay…well, I know what that did to help _my_ ancestors…but what exactly does that do for Santana?" Trey asked for clarification.

"If we can get the Court to approve an Order for Emancipation then that will release her from the custody and control of her parents," Daniel said with enthusiasm.

"'Release her'?…so sever her parents' rights?" Trey questioned.

"This way she can't be forced to do anything she doesn't want to do…," Daniel said as if it were the obvious choice.

"Like…being forced into rehab?"

"Like being forced into a rehab that isn't appropriate, Trey."

"You haven't even spoken to her about this, Daniel…what makes you so sure she'd want it?"

"What do you mean? It's the perfect legal checkmate in this whole mess…," he said with a furrowed brown, not understanding his partner's protest, "No more of Hector's obnoxious behavior…no more of him bullying her or us…why don't you agree?"

"_Because_…those are her parents, honey…they will always be her parents…she will always be their daughter…no matter how old she gets or how long she stays with us."

"Well, they're the crappiest parents ever, the poor kid…," Daniel stated boldly.

"Um, no…_my_ parents are the crappiest parents ever…yet…we spend Thanksgiving with them every year," Trey pointed out.

Daniel grimaced, "What the hell does that have to do with anything?"

"It has everything to do with this…," Trey leaned over and closed Daniel's book then shut the top on his laptop, "…the way my parents reacted to finding out I was gay twenty years ago…who would ever think we would eventually sit at a table with our daughter and share a holiday meal with them."

Daniel paused then reached across and took his partner's hand in his, "…true…but if you'd been a minor when you came out to them, and your mother thought there was any chance that the gay could be cast out of you like a demon…there would have been a private devotional at your house every night."

"They are people who we will never understand…and who will never understand us…but they're family."

"Family doesn't have to be what you're born into, Trey…it's what you surround yourself with…that's family in the truest sense of the word, right?"

"Okay, your point is valid, dear…," Trey put his hands in the air in an emphasized gesture of giving in to Daniel.

"I hear you too…and I agree that sometimes people can come around to tolerance…even if they can't fully accept…," Daniel assured him, "but…we can at least talk to her about it…to make sure she is informed of her rights."

"If we can find her…." Trey said sadly.

Daniel frowned and sighed, "She's a good kid, Trey…I'm not giving up hope that we can bring her back."

"The abyss is all-consuming sometimes, Daniel."

"We would search every inch of this earth to find Rachel…we'll do no less for Santana."

* * *

><p>Cate heard the doorbell ring, and she went toward the front door to answer it, stopping first to light a candle which sat in the middle of a small, round table just behind the couch in her living room.<p>

Right before turning the knob to open the door, Cate fidgeted with the hem of her button down, black shirt, pulling at it to straighten it, then nervously tucked her light brown hair behind both ears, taking a deep breath.

"Hi…," the tall girl beamed as she opened the door to find Quinn on the other side, "You found me!"

"Your directions were perfect," Quinn smiled back, stepping inside and turning to push the door shut.

Quinn was dressed in a loose-fitting, colorful sundress, the streaks of green matching her eyes perfectly. She looked around quickly for a place to set her purse.

"Oh here…let me take that," Cate said chivalrously with a smile, taking the small bag and placing it on a nearby end table.

"Thank you," the blonde smiled back at the brunette.

"You want the tour?" Cate asked her, taking her by the hand.

"Absolutely!"

"Okay…well…this is pretty much it," Cate said jovially, pointing as she named off, "…kitchen, dining room, living room…and that door there is the bathroom…and just beyond that is the, um, bedroom."

"I'll keep that in mind," Quinn joked to lighten the momentary increase in awkwardness.

"Right…," Cate let out a small laugh.

"Candles? Romantic…," Quinn noticed the small table and two other strategically placed glowing flames, "…and they smell nice too."

"I just thought that in candlelight…the place might look bigger," Cate self-jeered.

"Your place is lovely, Cate…it's cozy…," Quinn moved closer to the older girl and put her arms around her, "…like your hugs."

Cate hugged Quinn back, "Are you hungry?"

"Famished…," Quinn told her.

"I knew you like pasta…so I hope that's okay?" Cate went into the kitchen, turning on the overhead light.

"Sounds great…," Quinn assured her, moving into the kitchen behind the taller girl, "You know, I have never had anyone cook for me before."

"No? I'm told I'm a pretty good cook, so you're in luck…well, I'm good with Italian food anyway…," Cate clarified, "I had an Italian grandmother who taught me how to do three things before she died."

"What three things?" Quinn was curious.

"How to make her special Sunday pasta dishes…how to bake the perfect chocolate cake…which I didn't do for tonight, but if you like chocolate then I promise to bake you one…," she teased at Quinn, placing a sweet kiss on her cheek.

"Who doesn't love chocolate…," the shorter girl laughed, "…so what's the third thing?"

"How to flip off someone in Italian…," Cate held up her middle finger, saying in a perfect Italian accent, "Vaffanculo!"

Quinn cackled at that, adding, "All three of those skills are invaluable, I must say."

After their shared laughter faded, Cate paused and looked at Quinn then said, "You are so beautiful when you laugh."

Quinn pulled the taller girl toward her and kissed her passionately. "I seem to laugh more with you than I have with anyone else," she told her, hugging her again and putting her head on Cate's shoulder.

* * *

><p>"Come sit down," Quinn said from the couch, her legs tucked underneath her, "You've cooked, you've cleaned up…now come relax with me."<p>

The brunette wiped her hands on a kitchen towel and turned out the light, moving over toward the living room couch. She sat down in the spot next to Quinn where the young blonde patted the cushion.

"Put your feet up…," Quinn told her, pulling Cate closer toward her, "…It was amazing, by the way."

Cate stretched out comfortably on the couch and leaned against Quinn with her head propped on the teen's tucked legs, "My nonna would call that a success then."

"I keep learning all these interesting things about you…your dad's side is Scottish…your mom's side is Italian…," Quinn moved some of Cate's hair from her forehead.

"Adoptive sides, don't forget…," Cate clarified, "My birth mother is German."

"Right…," Quinn acknowledged, "…you're adopted…you cook deliciously…you play the guitar and the piano…you quote poetry…you probably even write it, huh?"

"Well, what are song lyrics but poetry set to music?"

"You write songs too?" Quinn asked with slight awe.

"I dabble," Cate said with a smile.

"Do you sing?"

"I more or less croak out songs," Cate laughed.

"You're too good to be true, Cate Boyd…," Quinn looked down at her and jokingly asked, "…do you turn water into wine too?"

"I used to think I could…but I avoid wine these days," the older girl said honestly.

"Oh right…your darker period…that part of your life that shall not be mentioned."

Cate chuckled, "Does it seem like I avoid it?"

Quinn nodded, lightly running her fingertips down the side of Cate's face, "…the details anyway."

"I don't do it on purpose really…it just seems like such a lifetime ago."

"Would I be shocked to know _that_ Cate?" Quinn inquired.

"Probably...though I'm glad you know me on this side of it all," Cate reached up and gently caressed Quinn's cheek with her knuckles, "I wouldn't have appreciated you then."

"Tell me some of it."

"The short version?"

"We can start with that," Quinn agreed.

"Sex, drugs, and rock & roll, baby…," Cate said in her best Janis Joplin impression, "…that's what it was all about at that time."

"Ok, not _that_ short of a version," Quinn chided.

"Let's see…I hardly remember high school…the two years that I at least attempted to show up occasionally…but then I dropped out to go on the road with an all-girl rock band," Cate explained.

"And your parents…?"

"Were tormented by my behavior…but I was too stoned to care."

"Did you know you were a lesbian then?"

"That's why I was stoned all the time," Cate laughed, taking Quinn's hand in hers, interlocking their fingers.

Quinn wrinkled her nose.

"Well…_partly_…I just didn't like myself much then…it didn't help that I felt like I was a huge disappointment to my parents…and that mental state didn't combine well with being in a music scene where all vices were readily available."

"Where were the adults in all of this?" Quinn asked, her strict upbringing showing for a second.

"Adults? There are no adults in rock & roll…," Cate teased, "…but sin can find you just as easily here in Ohio as it can out on the road."

The once troubled teen paused, casting her glance to the side as memories of her own discretions flooded her mind, "…true."

Cate drew Quinn's hand to her lips and kissed it, "What else do you want to know about me?"

"Did you have a girlfriend then?" Quinn surprised herself with wanting that information.

Cate smiled up at her, "…several."

"Several?" Quinn swallowed hard and privately wished she hadn't asked that question.

Cate laughed, "In the lesbian world…two dates means you're girlfriends."

Quinn's brow furrowed, and she asked cautiously, "So…we've been on more than two dates…does that mean we're girlfriends?"

"Is that what you want it to mean?"

The blonde took a deep breath then answered, "Yes."

"Does it scare you that you feel that way?"

"Yes," Quinn smiled sheepishly.

"Then we won't rush it," Cate assured her.

"But…I find it comforting at the same time."

Cate sat up and pulled Quinn into an embrace, "Let's just continue as we are…no expectations…no preconceived notions…just you…and me…ok?"

"I just don't want to lose this, Cate…," Quinn confessed, hugging the older girl tightly.

"Don't push yourself too fast, Quinn…cause I'm not going anywhere."

* * *

><p>"You're sure?" Austin Royle plopped down on the twin bed next to Brittany who was lying on her stomach with her feet up in the air behind her.<p>

"Yes…you guys go on," she stressed to him with a nudge of her shoulder.

"But this is our last chance to hang out before camp ends." The teenager gave Brittany his best pout face.

"I just don't feel very festive, Austin…I'm sorry."

"It's bowling though…you love bowling."

"I love my bed more…tonight anyway," Brittany joked with him, holding her journal to her chest, internally wishing he would take the obvious hint and just go on.

"You love your bed a lot recently," he said sadly.

"I have a bunch of stuff on my mind."

"Ok, fine…be a party pooper then," he caved, standing up, "…we'll really miss you though."

"Thanks," Brittany said, undeterred.

"Come on, Austin…the van is leaving in two minutes," one of the other girls called to him from the hall.

Brittany watched over her shoulder as he left, pulling her dorm room door shut behind him and leaving her alone in the dimly lit room.

She pulled her pen out of the spiral binding of her journal and reopened it, turning to a page she had started the night before. The tall blonde had so many thoughts spinning in her mind this past week that she found it hard to focus on her dance routines unless she put them down on paper. She glanced back over the random thoughts she previously wrote:

I love that you don't care what I wear or what I look like.

I love the way you challenge me.

I love the way you're always honest with me.

I love that I can tell everything about you by looking in your eyes.

I love the way you know me.

I love the way you understand me when nobody else does.

I love how gentle you are around me.

I love when you smile right before you kiss me.

Brittany had started this list, hoping to read it to Santana once they both were home and together again. She pulled out her phone from the side pocket of her hoodie and checked it again for any messages or texts, but there were none just like there were none any time she looked this week. Still, the ritual of checking had become an obsessive task for her. Brittany never lost hope that there would be one time she would look, and there it would be…a text from Santana, saying, "Hey, babe…everything's cool…we'll talk soon."

Brittany wiped at her face as a tear rolled down her cheek. She sniffed and picked up her pen to add at the bottom of the list:

I love loving you.

She fumbled with the phone again. No texts. No messages. Brittany sighed heavily, pausing then dialing Santana's cell number. It seemed silly to the blonde even as she punched in all the numbers by memory instead of using the fast dial button. She knew Santana's parents had confiscated her phone at the hospital, but Brittany just wanted to hear the sound of Santana's voice again on her outgoing message. The number rang a few times before going into voice mail. Brittany listened, knowing exactly what the message would say, but there is was…Santana's voice…saying, "I can't answer my phone. You know what to do."

After the beep sounded, Brittany hesitated. _What if she got it back_…_should I say something_?

"Santana…I'm so worried about you." was all she got out before she was cut off. _No wait, I wanted to tell her I love her_, Brittany desperately thought. She immediately punched redial to call the number again. _She has to know how much I love her_, her emotions were taking over her senses as she expected to hear Santana's voice again, but instead she heard, "Brittany?"

Brittany was startled, "Santana?"

The female voice responded, "No, this is her mom."

"Oh…," the young girl's disappointment was evident.

"Have you heard from her at all?" Mrs. Lopez's voice was thick with worry and had a raspy edge to it that Brittany had never noticed before.

_She sounds so much like Santana_, Brittany thought.

"Brittany?"

"Uh…no, I haven't…not since last week."

"Are you still at dance camp?"

"Yes…how did you know about that?"

"From your mom…when I spoke with her about Santana being in the hospital."

"Oh, right…I have my last performance in a couple of days…I'll be home after that," Brittany explained.

"Well, good luck to you…though you don't need any luck really on your dancing," she said sweetly.

"I need luck on everything right now," Brittany said aloud before she realized it.

"Santana was always so proud of your talent…remember that when you dance, ok?" Santana's mom encouraged.

"…_was_?" Brittany's heart hurt at hearing that.

"…is…is proud of you, dear," Mrs. Lopez covered. There was a pause then the older woman said softly, "Brittany?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you for being so good to my daughter."

Mrs. Lopez's statement was completely unexpected, shaking Brittany's emotions. Not knowing how to respond, she said, "You don't have to thank me…I love her."

There was another pause on the other end. "I know you do," Santana's mom said with a shaky voice, "I love her too…and I miss her so much."

"Me too."

* * *

><p><em>You say you gotta go and find yourself<em>

_You say that you're becoming someone else_

_Don't recognize the face in the mirror looking back at you…_

_You say you're leaving as you look away_

_I know there's really nothing left to say_

_Just know I'm here whenever you need me I'll wait for you…_

_So I'll let you go, I'll set you free_

_And when you've seen what you need to see_

_When you find you, come back to me…_

_Take your time, I won't go anywhere_

_Picture you with the wind in your hair_

_I'll keep your things right where you left them_

_I'll be here for you…_

_Oh and I'll let you go, I'll set you free_

_And when you've seen what you need to see_

_When you find you, come back to me…_

_I can't get close if you're not there_

_I can't get inside if there's no soul there_

_I can't face you, I can't save you_

_It's something you'll have to do…_

_So I'll let you go, I'll set you free_

_And when you've seen what you need to see_

_When you find you, come back to me…_

* * *

><p>Two older girls drove up to a run-down, brown-painted wooden house and got out of their silver SUV, circling around behind to open the back and pull out a heavy silver container which they carried together up the gravel driveway.<p>

"Hey, Becca…you want the keg on the back porch?" one of them asked a girl who was vegged out in an old, red Adirondak chair in the front yard.

"Yeah…back," Becca gestured with a floppy hand, already on her fourth beer.

"Is Jordan here?" the other girl hollered over her shoulder as they continued up the graveled path.

"Inside," Becca responded.

The girls carried the heavy keg around the back of the old house, stepping past a young red-haired girl who was on her stomach on a lounge chair, sunning herself in the afternoon heat. The two of them had to maneuver sideways as they hoisted the oversized metal canister up a set of nearly-dilapidated wooden steps. They dropped it with a loud thud to the floor of the porch near an old, weathered couch. There was a dark-haired girl seated on the couch with her knees pulled up to her chest and her arms wrapped around herself, staring into the empty space in front of her, who never even flinched at the loud noise.

"Damn, Ash…you almost dropped that on my foot," the heavier-set girl complained.

"Sorry," the other one responded with a loud laugh.

As they moved past the girl on the couch, one of them stopped and waived their hand up and down right in front of her face with no response.

"Fuck man…that must be some good shit," Ashley joked.

"Jordan…you in here?" they yelled as they stepped through the open doorway that entered through a large kitchen, nearly tripping over a gray and white cat who jumped up and ran off with a loud squeal.

"In here," a voice called from the living room.

"Keg's on the porch…we need to get it iced down," Ashley told her.

"Yeah, there's several bags of ice in that blue cooler in the backyard," Jordan said from the living room couch, "We can do another ice run when Robyn gets here with her car."

"Where's your truck?"

"Cate's had it for a few days…she's fixing the transmission on it."

"I thought you two broke up months ago?"

"We did…but she uses that thing more than I do now that she's got her little blonde chickie to cart around town," Jordan took a long sip of her bottle of beer, the glass clanking against the metal piercing as she lifted it to her lip.

"Not that you're bitter though, right?" the larger girl said sarcastically.

"Whatever…she's too good to party with us now anyway," Jordan added.

"Who cares, Jordan…let her go…," the taller, thinner girl plopped down next to Jordan on the couch and put her feet up on the coffee table, crossing them at the ankles, "…so, um…who's the hottie on the back porch?"

"Oh no, Ashley…hands off…she's way too fragile and fucked up already…she doesn't need you fucking with her…," Jordan warned.

"Fucked up is right…the colors must be pretty in her world right now," the other girl laughed, "Somebody should probably think about tossing her in the shower occasionally too."

"Yeah, I don't guess I've seen her clean up since she's been here," Jordan observed.

"Well, you could just get the water hose like Cate used to do to sober you up, Jordan," Ashley teased, elbowing the tattooed girl on the couch next to her.

"You're a fucking riot, Ash," Jordan said with no humor.

"Oh come on, J…I'll be gentle with her…get her all cleaned up," Ashley tried again.

"Not a chance," Jordan said firmly, standing and brushing past the other girl to walk into the kitchen, "…besides…there'll be twenty other girls here tonight who will be drunk enough for you to hit on."

Jordan placed her empty beer bottle in an open cardboard case on the counter then turned to the refrigerator, opening it and grabbing another cold bottle which she opened with a purple bottle opener attached to her key chain.

"Hey, Amanda…I think Jordan here has a crush on her new little couch potato," Ashley taunted.

Jordan stepped out of the doorway onto the back porch. She set her beer down on the wooden railing and took a large, round container from the corner and moved it over by the keg.

"Shut up, Ash…make yourself useful and go grab a few of those bags of ice from the cooler…," Jordan instructed, adding, "Amanda, help me lift this into here."

After they transferred the keg into the plastic, yellow tub, Jordan leaned back against the railing and pulled a pack of cigarettes out of back pocket. She put one in her mouth then offered the pack to Amanda who took one too.

Jordan lit her own cigarette then reached out to offer a light to the other girl who leaned toward her and said, "Thanks man."

Amanda sat down hard at the other end of the couch, but the young girl never moved, still balled up tightly and staring off into somewhere that was not the reality of the old porch. Amanda leaned over and poked the girl in the shoulder, laughing when she got no response.

"Don't be a shit, Mandy…leave her alone…," Jordan chastised, kicking Amanda in the knee and running her long fingers through her jet-black hair, revealing the streaks of hot pink as it settled back into place, "…she's just a messed up kid."

Ashley came up the porch steps with four bags of ice. Jordan waited for her to pass before she leaned forward and waved her hand in front of the dark-haired girl's face.

"Hey!" she said loudly, snapping her fingers twice to try and rouse the girl, "Santana!"

There was no response.

Jordan looked at the other two girls and shrugged then took another long sip of her beer.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note<strong>: I'm sure you guys will have a lot to say about this chapter…but stay with me here, folks! Don't give up hope yet. Oh, and the song is Come Back to Me by David Cook. Thank you so much for continuing to read my story! Kim


	17. Chapter 17

**Her Smile Heals Me (part 17)**

Santana took in a deep breath, the kind of swift intake of air somebody takes when they're forced out of a deep sleep by a sudden sensation of free falling, which caused her to immediately start choking. She pushed herself up on her forearms and forced her eyes open with every ounce of energy she had reserved, feeling half groggy and half out of her head from the amount of smoke in the air surrounding her. She tried to swallow but the dryness in her mouth and throat was thick, as if her last meal had been cotton balls and she hadn't brushed her teeth for days afterward.

The room was very dim, but she wasn't quite sure if it was the room or the darkness she brought with her from her dreams. Her every thought had been so shadowed lately, she was never sure if she was truly awake or still sleeping.

She heard a voice mumble something so she turned toward it. There was so much smoke in the air, everything appeared to Santana in slow-motion. Her head hurt. Her throat hurt. Her stomach hurt.

The voice said something to her again so she tried to sit up. _Bad idea_. The combination of motion and thick smoke turned her stomach faster than she could even process.

"Oh gross…now she's puking on herself…," an obnoxious, female voice said loudly, "…I told you should have left her out back."

"Shut the fuck up, Amanda," Jordan said harshly.

Santana heard the voices around her, but she had no ability to decipher their words…just like she felt warm liquid down the front of her, but she had no presence of mind to understand what was happening.

Jordan had a hard time lifting herself off the floor, but she made her way over to the couch and helped Santana stand, putting her cigarette between her pierced lips then one of the Latina's arms over her shoulders as she put her arm around Santana's waist.

"Come on…," Jordan told her, barely discernible through the hanging cigarette, "…let's get you cleaned up."

Santana gave her no resistance, allowing herself to be more or less dragged up a flight of stairs to the second floor.

_There's a place that I know_

_It's not pretty there and few have ever gone_

_If I show it to you now_

_Will it make you run away…_

_Or will you stay_

_Even if it hurts_

_Even if I try to push you out_

_Will you return?_

_And remind me who I really am_

_Please remind me who I really am…_

Brittany shivered hard under a sudden feeling of alarm that washed over her, shaking her entire body and causing her to flush. The overwhelming awareness that something was wrong somewhere pushed all of the other thoughts from her head. She heard a rise of applause, but her mind was so far away, it sounded like the distant ocean waves she always heard inside large sea shells as a kid at the beach.

"Brittany…."

She felt a gentle nudge, and she looked toward the person seated next to her, "Huh?"

"They called your name…," Austin said with an excited smile, "…you won!"

Brittany looked around the auditorium, seeing her parents and little sister standing proudly, clapping enthusiastically with the rest of the audience, her mom motioning her up to the stage.

_Everybody's got a dark side_

_Do you love me?_

_Can you love mine?_

_Nobody's a picture perfect_

_But we're worth it_

_You know that we're worth it_

_Will you love me?_

_Even with my dark side?_

Jordan opened the door to the upstairs bathroom and sat Santana on the side of its grungy, ceramic tub, pulling the shower curtain back, then she stepped sideways to kick the door closed with her black boot, holding onto Santana's floppy arm to keep her from falling. She leaned and set the remaining half of her lit cigarette on the edge of the sink with her free hand.

"Alright…arms up," she said as she grabbed at the bottom hem of Santana's cotton shirt.

The young brunette followed instructions by motion more than comprehension, and Jordan lifted the shirt off of her and tossed it to the floor, revealing Santana's bare chest.

"Damn, girl…," Jordan's thought escaped her mouth before she slid Santana backwards into the tub, her legs draped over the side.

The older girl turned around and took a long drag off her cigarette, flicking the hot ash into the sink, then returned to the tub and pulled off Santana's sweatpants, tossing them to the floor too.

"This'll be cold at first," Jordan said as she leaned over the younger girl and turned on the overhead shower, the water shooting out full force.

Santana let out an audible scream, startled by both the water and its temperature.

"Hey, I warned you…," Jordan said with a slight laugh.

The door to the bathroom pushed open.

"You're gonna have to wait…," Jordan said to another girl as she stepped in front of the door, trying to force it shut again.

"I gotta pee…," the girl told her, leaning on the door, "…and there's a line for the downstairs."

"Wait…or find a tree out back," Jordan told the unknown girl.

"Whatever," the girl slammed the door shut, "This party sucks anyway!"

Jordan turned back to the tub, picking up a bottle of liquid bath soap and squirting it over Santana, "…ok, that should help some of that smell." She tilted the shower head so it rinsed off the trail of soap from the Latina's brown skin then reached to turn off the water before grabbing a large towel, stopping a second to take a puff from the last of her cigarette.

"That'll have to do for now," she said as she pulled on Santana's arm to lift her back out of the tub, wrapping the towel around her as she got her to the edge.

Jordan ran a gentle touch down the back of Santana's wet hair, "Okay, feeling better, kid?"

Santana nodded weakly, the shower having brought her back to reality a little.

"You should maybe have some water or something, you think?"

She nodded again.

The older girl looked around for a cup, but finding none, she picked up one of the discarded, half-empty bottles of beer from the ledge over the toilet. She poured the rest into the sink then ran the bottle under the hot water before switching it to cold and filling the bottle with some of it.

"Here…guess this'll have to do…," she lifted the amber-colored bottle to Santana's lips.

As some of the water emptied into her mouth, the stench of beer from the rim of the bottle almost made the brunette vomit again.

"Okay, okay…sorry," Jordan said, pulling the bottle away, as Santana coughed hard.

The tattooed girl set the bottle on the counter then helped Santana stand again, tucking the towel around her.

_Like a diamond_

_From black dust_

_It's hard to know_

_What can become_

_If you give up_

_So don't give up on me_

_Please remind me who I really am…_

Brittany stood up from her seat and pushed past the rest of her classmates in the row, turning toward her parents again as she reached the aisle. Her sister gave her a giant toothless grin and a wave before she turned toward the large stage.

"I think Ms. Pierce is a bit shocked at coming out on top…," Ms. Mack said into the microphone as the applause started fading, "…let's encourage her with another round of applause."

Brittany made her way up the side stairs and walked across the lit stage until she reached its center. She was greeted with a firm handshake and a warm smile from Ms. Mack, Interlochen's toughest instructor, before she was handed an envelope and a trophy.

"Brittany, congratulations…," Ms. Mack said directly to her then added into the microphone, "…I'm thrilled to have had the opportunity to work with Brittany personally in my classes…she was not only our star pupil with her individual and team performance marks, but she was also highly favored by her classmates…her dedication to her craft and attention to detail…even with a family emergency that occurred mid-camp…."

Brittany looked out into the audience. _Santana_…she thought. This should be the happiest accomplishment of her seventeen years, but the one person she wanted to share it with was missing from the crowd. Her stomach dropped and tears filled her eyes. The sound around her disappeared again for a moment as she willed herself to keep control of her emotions, biting at her bottom lip as it quivered.

"…I would also like to point out that this is an honor typically bestowed on our graduating seniors…so again, congratulations and thank you for all your hard work."

Brittany managed to smile out at the audience then back at Ms. Mack, saying, "Thank you very much."

_Everybody's got a dark side_

_Do you love me?_

_Can you love mine?_

_Nobody's a picture perfect_

_But we're worth it_

_You know that we're worth it_

_Will you love me?_

_Even with my dark side?_

_Don't run away_

_Don't run away_

_Just tell me that you will stay_

_Promise you will stay…_

Jordan led Santana up the hallway and into her bedroom, sitting her on a very disheveled bed, before turning to pull out a clean t-shirt and sweat pants from the same drawer she'd pulled the clothes Santana previously had on.

"Do you have more underwear in your bag?" Jordan asked her, grabbing the red and white McKinley High backpack off the floor.

Santana didn't respond, the combined smells of lingering smoke and recently burned incense swirling around in her head.

The older girl dug around in the bag and pulled out a black bra, a paperback book, and a blue brush before finding a pair stuffed at the bottom along with a white bank envelope. She pulled out the paper sleeve and saw that it was thick with cash. Confused, she looked over at Santana, and her mind started churning with random thoughts of how she could use that money.

Jordan took a deep breath and saw that Santana was looking at her but she said nothing. She slid the envelope back down into the side of the backpack, zipping it closed and tossing it to the side of her dresser.

She ran the towel over Santana's shoulders and back then over her wet hair. She pulled the shirt over her head, pushing her arms in the appropriate holes, and leaned her back against the bed and pulled on the underwear then the pants over her thin legs. The older girl rolled her over so she was in the middle of the double bed and moved to the doorway.

The last thing Santana heard before the light went out was, "ok, kid…sleep tight…oh, and _please_don't puke or piss in my bed."

* * *

><p>Tiny arms grabbed Brittany from behind, squeezing her tightly. She turned to see her parents walking toward her in the brightly lit hallway outside the auditorium.<p>

"Congratulations, sweetheart!" Mrs. Pierce approached her daughter with outstretched arms, hugging her when she reached her.

"We are so proud of you, Britt," Brittany's father leaned over his wife to kiss his older child on the cheek.

"Can I hold your trophy?" her sister asked excitedly.

"Be careful, ok…it's heavier than it looks," she said, still halfway holding it for support.

"It's pretty…I like the gold dancing girl…I'm gonna be a dancer too, just like you, B…huh?"

"You bet!" Brittany patted the child on the head, taking back her award, "…and you'll win ten of these."

"Mine are gonna be super tall too…like this tall…," the little girl held her arm in the air and jumped up, emphasizing the height she envisioned.

"Dream big, pumpkin," Mr. Pierce told her then adding, "Come on…are any of you hungry?"

"Yes!" his wife answered.

"Me…Me…Me!" the littlest Pierce voted.

"Give me just a second, okay?" Brittany asked, seeing Austin nearby with his family, "Hold this for me?"

"Sure…take your time," her dad told her, taking the trophy.

Brittany walked over to the lanky teen and tapped him on the shoulder. "Hey."

He turned and gave her a wide smile, "Congratulations!"

His parents, grandparents, and brother were standing in a semi-circle and added their congratulations too.

"Thanks…I really appreciate," she told them all, smiling politely.

"I wanted to tell Jeff thank you again for driving me down to Ohio," she said toward the handsome, older boy standing in the group.

"No problem…I was headed that direction anyway," Jeff smiled back at her.

"Well, tell Tiffany it was nice to meet her."

"I will…I'm glad you made it back safely," he told her.

"Me too…," Brittany looked down and shuffled her feet.

"That's so awesome that they gave you another scholarship for next summer," Austin said, squeezing her upper arm.

"Yeah, it's great…do you think you'll be back next summer?"

Austin looked at his parents, "Will I?"

"I'm sure we can budget for that…_if_ you keep your grades up," his dad said.

"Cool…listen, I gotta go…I'm having dinner with my family," Brittany leaned to hug him, "I'll see you in the morning at checkout, ok?"

"Thanks again for all your help, Brittany…I couldn't have survived without you."

Brittany's thoughts instantly went to Santana. She shook her head to cast them away. _Don't lose it now_…she told herself internally as she walked back toward her family.

"Let's go eat," her father said, putting his arm around her shoulders.

* * *

><p>"You're G-A-Y Gay, Dave."<p>

"Shut up!" David screamed.

"It's true!"

"So are YOU, you bitch!"

"Yeah, so? I'm a girl…nobody cares…it's hot even."

"Shut up, Santana!"

"Just come out…what do have to lose?"

"Shut up!" David put his hands over his ears, trying to block out the sound of her voice.

"Do you realize what you did to me?"

"Please shut up," he begged.

"No! You RAPED me, Dave…you took EVERYTHING away from me…my dignity, my sense of safety."

"No…it was an accident."

"An _accident_?" she laughed, "So you didn't mean to rip off my clothes?"

"No…shut your mouth…it wasn't like that."

"Oh okay…and you didn't mean to ram your hand inside me? Over and over until I was BLEEDING!"

"STOP IT!"

"Stop it, Dave? Like you stopped when I screamed out in pain? When I begged you to stop, Dave? Like _you_ stopped then?"

"I was drunk…I didn't want that to happen," he cried as he shook his head in protest to her words though it was as if she was standing and shouting right into his brain.

"YOU RAPED ME!"

David Karofsky sat straight up in his bed, unsure if the scream he heard himself make was audible or just inside his head. He drew in a shaky breath and ran his large hands through his thinning, brown hair, finding it wet with sweat. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply for several seconds until his pulse slowed.

He looked around his moonlit room. He saw sports pennants, displayed trophies, a football on his dresser, and a rack, hanging on the wall across from him, that held several baseball bats. His room made a statement: a boy lives in this room.

_He's all boy_…he'd heard his mother say countless times over the years. _That's my boy_…his father would yell from the stands at his games. Anytime he fell off his bike when he was younger he always heard…_Quit your crying, son…toughen up_! Once he grew taller and bigger than others in neighborhood, his father encouraged him with…_Show them what it means to be a man, David_.

Karofsky looked down at his hands. He held them up in front of him. He'd batted baseballs with them. He'd tackled linebackers with them. He'd punched guys in the face with them. He'd pushed smaller kids like Kurt into lockers with them.

_YOU RAPED ME…_he heard echo in his head. Tears rolled down David's face as he lay back down.

* * *

><p>Quinn put her blinker on to turn right onto a side street. She was following Cate who was driving the small, maroon truck through the streets of a neighboring town to Lima. The teen looked at the older homes as they drove, wrinkling her nose at the condition of most of them. Truth be known, Quinn stayed away from this area for good reason.<p>

She pulled up into a long gravel driveway and stopped her car behind Cate. The tall brunette got out of the truck and walked back to the Jetta. Quinn buzzed her window down rather than turning off the ignition, leaning her head out of the opening.

"Why don't you just wait here, ok?" Cate leaned and kissed Quinn, "I just need to trade keys with Jordan."

"Okay," Quinn smiled up at her, relieved to be given the out. She watched as Cate walked up the driveway, stopping by her bright blue motorcycle which was parked under a giant oak in the front yard near an old Adirondack chair. After a few seconds, Cate went up a set of steps and walk through the front door without knocking.

Cate surveyed the bodies in various spots around the living room, looking for the black and pink hair of her ex-girlfriend.

"Jordan," Cate shook the girl curled up in a fetal position in an old armchair.

"Huh?" she hardly stirred, pulling her knit cap down further over her face to block out the sunlight that was streaming through the large window on the front wall of the house.

"Jordan…come on…it's after two…I told you I was bringing the truck back today."

"Yeah, okay."

"Here's your keys…trade me and you can go back to sleep," Cate grimaced, looking around at the condition of the house and the random girls asleep in it.

Jordan didn't move but mumbled, "…back pocket."

Cate rolled the older girl over to get to the back pocket of her ripped jeans, lecturing, "It smells disgusting in here, by the way." She pulled out the key chain and removed her bike's ignition key, replacing it with the truck's key on Jordan's ring, adding sarcastically, "Just another awesome night of beer and pot, huh?"

"Go back to blondie and leave me alone," Jordan slurred.

"With pleasure…," Cate rolled her eyes, "…just tell me where my helmet is…and I won't bother you anymore."

There was no answer.

"Jordan!" Cate was losing her patience and her appetite at the nauseating smell of leftover smoke, alcohol and vomit.

"You're such an asshole sometimes," Cate told her over her shoulder as she headed up the stairs, taking them two at a time with her long legs.

The attractive brunette rounded the corner and pushed open Jordan's bedroom door with a loud thud, immediately scanning the room for her bike helmet.

"Oh sorry," she said, embarrassed, as her eyes stopping on a body in Jordan's bed then added quietly once she saw the girl didn't move, "I'm just looking for something…won't be but a sec."

Cate shrugged at the mess of piled clothes on the floor and lined up bottles of beer on Jordan's dresser. The room smelled of body odor and incense. Cate moved some junk that was stacked in a chair and flinched when it slid off and fell to the floor. "Sorry," she whispered again toward the sleeping girl.

The brunette tried to restack some of the junk on the floor so nobody would trip over it before she started quietly laughing at the absurdity of herself trying to "clean" any part of this sty. She squatted next to the dresser, looking one last location for her helmet, and found a familiar looking red and white backpack like one she'd seen Quinn use. Curious, Cate turned it around and saw WMHS on the front of it.

Cate stood up and stepped to the bed, now realizing the raven-haired girl in the bed looked very much like, "Santana!"

She rolled the sleeping teen over and tried to rouse her, "Santana…wake up!" Cate pulled her up out of the bed, "Come on…you can't stay here."

The Latina was barely coherent as she mumbled something, but there wasn't enough volume for Cate to understand her.

"What?" Cate asked her but she got no other response. The older girl put the backpack on and lifted the weak girl to carry her out of the room and down the staircase.

"Jordan! You are such a fucking asshole…what were you thinking?" Cate screamed as she got to the living room, kicking the back of the armchair until Jordan sat up.

"Have you lost your mind? What's your problem?" she slurred back loudly.

"I can't believe you…do you EVER think of anyone other than yourself?" Cate yelled while moving toward the front door, shifting Santana in her arms to open the front door, not even bothering to shut it behind her she was so angry.

* * *

><p>Quinn adjusted the station of her car radio as she waited in the driveway.<p>

She looked up to see Cate walking toward her carrying a dark-haired girl. "What the…?" Quinn said aloud, instantly confused until she realized Cate was carrying Santana.

Quinn threw open the driver's side door and jumped out, running toward them, "Oh my god…Santana!"

"Help me get her to the car," Cate requested, her strength giving out under the dead weight of the limp teen.

Quinn put her arm around Santana's waist and the other under one of her legs as the two of them carried her down the rest of the driveway and put her in the back of the Jetta.

"Will you drive if I sit back here with her?" Quinn asked.

"Yeah, of course…," Cate shut the passenger door behind Quinn then got into the driver's seat, turning around, "Wait…where should I drive to?"

"Away from here," Quinn said desperately.

* * *

><p>"Look there's one that's red…where's that one from, B?"<p>

"That's Arizona," Brittany answered her sister.

"That driver sure is far from home," Mrs. Pierce added from the front passenger seat of the blue van.

"Daddy…I need to go to the bathroom."

"Ok, sweetie…," Mr. Pierce turned on his blinker to move into the outside lane to exit the highway, "…we need gas too."

He drove the Sienna down an exit ramp up to a four-way stop sign, turning right until he pulled into a gas station. He stopped the van at one side of a set of gas pumps and turned off the ignition, "You girls go on."

He stepped out of the driver's side and pulled out his wallet, taking a plastic card from the inside and swiping it through the side bar of the pump. Mr. Pierce watched as his wife and daughters opened the glass door on the building and went inside.

"Britt…you going?" her mother asked.

"No, I'm good…I'm just going to get a water, want anything?"

"I want a purple soda," the tiny Pierce requested.

"You'll have water too," her mother corrected.

Brittany laughed at the grimace on her sister's face, "I'll get you one with a cool pop top, ok?"

The child smiled broadly and took her mom's outstretched hand.

Brittany heard her mom say, "Now remember…we don't touch _anything_ in the restroom."

"…cause it's yucky!" her sister recited.

"That's right," Mrs. Pierce confirmed as they disappeared around the corner.

The tall blonde opened the glass door on the cold cooler and pulled out a tall clear bottle and a smaller clear bottle with a bright red sports cap. She walked up to the cashier and took out three crinkled, dollar bills from the front pocket of her jeans. She thanked the cashier and turned toward the front of the station when she heard her phone ring.

Pulling it out of her pants' pocket, she answered, "Hey, Quinn."

"Britt, we found her."

"What?" she stopped in her tracks at the entryway of the store, unsure of Quinn's meaning.

"We have her…alive...," Quinn said, adding dramatically, "…_barely_."

"Santana?" Brittany felt a surge of elation and dread at the same moment, "I want to talk to her."

"Uh…well…we're driving her to my house now."

"Q, doesn't she want to talk to me?"

"Britt…she's in bad shape…," Quinn revealed, "…she's not really talking."

Brittany swallowed hard, a sudden lump in her throat, "Well then…let me say something to her…_please_."

"Yeah, of course…here she is," Quinn said sweetly, holding the phone over to Santana's ear.

Brittany wasn't sure what to expect but all she heard was breathing into the phone, yet somehow, everything in her recognized her love at the other end. "Santana?" Brittany said softly as she stepped to the side out of the doorway, "Santana, I love you…I just need you to hear that, ok?"

Quinn watched the Latina shift toward the phone but say nothing in response, her eyes barely open. She pulled back the phone to her own ear, "Britt...she heard you."

Tears escaped from Brittany blue eyes, and she told Quinn, "We're nearly home…I'll be there as soon as I can."

"We'll see you when you get here." Quinn hung up her phone and turned back toward her dear friend, reaching over and squeezing Santana's hand.

* * *

><p>"Slow down, Dad…it's the next one on the left," Brittany unbuckled her seatbelt and sat up on the edge of her passenger seat.<p>

"I know, I know…I've dropped you at Quinn's many times," he responded calmly, slowing the vehicle.

"Right here…just stop, you don't have to pull into the driveway," the teen said anxiously.

"Brittany…settle down," her mom told her, "You need to remain calm for Santana."

"I'm fine…I just need out of this car," Brittany grabbed at the door handle even though the van hadn't yet come to a complete stop. The last ninety minutes had been brutal, but Brittany was grateful her parents agreed to drive directly to the Fabray residence.

"Brittany, stop...," her mother reached around and caught her by the wrist, "I want you to use good judgment…and keep us in the loop, do you understand?"

"Yes, Mom…_please_ let me go to her now," Brittany stressed, her blue eyes pleading with her mother.

"Call us soon," Mr. Pierce yelled out as Brittany slammed shut the sliding door behind her, running up to Quinn's front door.

Brittany opened the door, knowing it would be unlocked from Quinn's earlier text to her. She ran up the staircase, turning right and walking up to the guest room door that was closed. As she reached for the doorknob, her heart beating out of her chest in anticipation of seeing Santana, it opened and Quinn stepped out.

"Oh god, you scared me," the shorter blonde told Brittany, pushing her back and closing the door behind her, "Hold up."

"Quinn, please…I just want to see her," Brittany tried to push past her former Cheerios captain.

"Wait…talk to me for a minute," Quinn insisted.

Brittany released a breath of air that she didn't realize she had been holding in her chest.

"We were too scared to take her to the hospital…with everything that happened last time…," Quinn explained, "…so Cate called her dad and described what's going on."

"He's a doctor?" Brittany asked.

"A vet…but help is help, right?"

"Okay…and…?"

"He said she sounded dehydrated…to get water into her...his words, not mine," she smiled.

"She's not an animal, Quinn" Brittany snapped.

"Hey, we're trying here," Quinn sighed heavily, continuing, "She _is_ doing better now…though he lectured that she probably needs insulin and potassium…and…god knows what else."

"I get it…can I see her now?" Brittany's frustration was getting the better of her.

"There's no telling what all she's put herself through, Britt…she's in a very dark place."

"I'll take her however I can get her…please move now."

Quinn reached behind her and twisted the knob, stepping backwards as she pushed open the door.

Brittany saw Cate sitting crisscrossed on one side of the guest bed, holding a cup with a straw. Santana was under the covers on the far side of the bed, propped up on a couple of fluffy pillows. Cate turned toward the sound of the door opening, standing up when she saw Brittany enter with Quinn.

"She's still not talking," Cate whispered to the two blondes, handing Brittany the cup of water, "Try to get her to drink some more, ok?"

She took the cup and nodded, her emotions rising to the surface. Quinn patted Brittany on the shoulder and reminded her, "She just needs _you_ now."

Brittany heard the door close behind her as she stepped to the edge of the bed, setting the cup on the nightstand and stepping out of her shoes. She climbed under the covers and slid over next to the Latina whose eyes were closed, wrapping her arms tightly around her and pulling her as closely as she could until Santana's head was on her chest.

"You're safe now, my love," Brittany kissed her on the top of the head, "…and I'm never letting you out of my sight again."

* * *

><p>"Quinnie?" Mrs. Fabray pushed on the cracked door of her daughter's room, "Is it okay to come in?"<p>

"Yeah sure, Mom…," Quinn waved her inside. She was sitting on the floor of her bedroom across from Cate who was leaned back against the footboard with her long legs stretched out in front of her. They both shifted uncomfortably. "Mom…this is Cate," Quinn pointed to the girl across from her.

"Hi, Cate…," Judy Fabray said politely, "…are you in Glee Club with Quinn?"

"Glee Club?" Cate wasn't sure what she was talking about.

"No, Mom…Cate goes to Lima Community College."

"Oh, my apologies…," Judy looked at her daughter, "…how did you two meet?"

Cate looked down, unsure of where Quinn wanted to take this conversation.

"At The Lima Bean," Quinn answered.

"Ohh, I love their special roast," Judy smiled, "Do you work there?"

"Um…sort of…," Cate nodded, looking at Quinn.

"She plays guitar there some nights, Mom," Quinn interjected.

"A musician? Interesting…," Judy kept talking as she was known to do often, "…Quinn has a very pretty voice, you know...her group went to Nationals in New York last month."

"Mom…I don't think Cate cares about any of that," Quinn gave her mother a look, willing her to stop embarrassing her.

"Of course I care…New York City?" Cate inquired further.

"We lost," Quinn rolled her green eyes.

"They came in twelfth out of fifty states…I was quite impressed," Judy corrected.

Cate smiled at Quinn and nodded, "Twelfth is definitely impressive."

Quinn smiled warmly back.

"Excuse me?" Brittany said softly behind Mrs. Fabray who turned around.

"How's Santana, dear?" Judy asked her.

"I think she'd feel better after a hot bath," Brittany said.

"She'd definitely smell better," Quinn added, standing up, "Let me get her some fresh clothes."

"I'll go run some warm water for her in the bathroom," Judy squeezed Brittany on one of her folded arms as she passed her, "I'll also heat her some soup, alright?"

"Thank you," Brittany smiled.

* * *

><p>Brittany carried Santana into the Fabrays' guest bathroom and sat her on the closed lid of the toilet. She had a sudden déjà vu moment of retching over it all night not long ago, and her body involuntarily shivered. The blonde took a deep breath, privately noting how bad Santana really smelled, before turning to shut off the running water.<p>

"Oh look how sweet," Brittany talked to the silent Latina, trying to force normalcy, "Quinn's mom put you some bubbles…you like bubbles…and that'll make you smell all nice and fresh again."

She turned back toward Santana and saw that she was sort of smiling up at her. Brittany squatted down in front of her to insure direct eye contact, "You _are_ in there…aren't you?"

There was no verbal response, but Brittany knew Santana was looking into her eyes. "Well, we're going to get you all cleaned up…get all of that smoke smell off you…and _whatever_ else…okay?"

Santana gave her a slight nod. Brittany smiled broadly then pulled her shirt off of her, dropping it to the bathroom tile. She stood them both up and pulled down on the waistband of Santana's pants and helped her balance so she could step out of them.

Brittany guided Santana down into the warm bath water, and she felt a tug on her arm as she tried to pull away.

"Do you want me to bathe with you?" Brittany tried to decipher.

Santana nodded weakly.

"Okay…," Brittany smiled, stepping over to lock the door and remove her own clothes. She grabbed the washcloth Quinn's mom had set on the counter for her then stepped into the oversized tub to sit behind Santana, pulling her back against her.

Brittany lathered the light blue cloth, slowly washing Santana's shoulders and down each of her arms. She could feel the brunette's body relax into hers, and she seemed to find the warm water soothing.

Brittany reached her long arms down under the water to wash Santana's legs, stretching around her to lather her calves and feet. "That feels better, doesn't it?" Brittany gently spoke to her.

Santana nodded.

"Let's wash your hair," she told her then leaned her back against her again and lowered them both in more of the water to get Santana's dark hair wet. She used shampoo from the front corner of the tub, setting it back when she had a full palm.

Brittany ran her long fingers through Santana's thick hair, massaging her scalp with the white foam.

"I'm not hurting you, am I?"

Santana shook her head.

"Let's rinse now," Brittany warned her, leaning her back into the water again.

The last place Brittany washed with the cloth was between Santana's legs, maneuvering it gently inside her folds. "I love you so much," Brittany softly told her in her ear in an effort to offset any violation, "I'm so happy you're home."

Brittany set the wet cloth on the side of the tub, tears forming in her bright blue eyes, telling Santana, "We may be completely hopeless together…but p_lease_ never leave me again, baby."

Santana finally found enough volume to push a thought out from her inside her head, "Never."

Hearing Santana's voice, as weak and as raspy as she'd ever heard it, was the most beautiful sound Brittany could remember hearing. She pulled Santana closer into her, wrapping her long arms and legs tightly around her torso, enjoying a moment of just holding her, their skin to skin contact. Once the reality of actually being back with Santana overtook her, Brittany started sobbing, unable to control her emotions any longer.

_**I will be the answer  
>At the end of the line<br>I will be there for you  
>While you take the time<br>In the burning of uncertainty  
>I will be your solid ground<br>I will hold the balance  
>If you can't look down…<strong>_

_**If it takes my whole life**_  
><em><strong>I won't break, I won't bend<strong>_  
><em><strong>It will all be worth it<strong>_  
><em><strong>Worth it in the end…<strong>_

_**Cause I can only tell you what I know  
>That I need you in my life<br>When the stars have all gone out  
>You'll still be burning so bright…<strong>_

**_Cast me gently_**  
><strong><em>Into morning<em>**  
><strong><em>For the night has been unkind<em>**  
><strong><em>Take me to a<em>**  
><strong><em>Place so holy<em>**  
><strong><em>That I can wash this from my mind<em>**  
><strong><em>The memory of choosing not to fight…<em>**

**_If it takes my whole life_**  
><strong><em>I won't break, I won't bend<em>**  
><strong><em>It will all be worth it<em>**  
><strong><em>Worth it in the end<em>**  
><strong><em>'Cause I can only tell you what I know<em>**  
><strong><em>That I need you in my life<em>**  
><strong><em>When the stars have all burned out<em>**  
><strong><em>You'll still be burning so bright…<em>**

_**Cast me gently**_  
><em><strong>Into morning<strong>_  
><em><strong>For the night has been unkind.<strong>_

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note<strong>: A special thank you to tramper15 (one of my dearest tumblr pals) for the inspiration of the _Dark Side_ by Kelly Clarkson used in the combined, first scenes. The second song (at the very end) is _Answer _by Sarah McLachlan.

I know some of you readers have been growing impatient (for lack of a better word) with me as I dragged Santana, along with you all, down to the deepest depths. That's the reality of depression. My lovely friend Kaitlin can tell you that lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, for hours on end is reality for some people. So, my dear, wonderful readers…my fingers are crossed that this chapter gave you guys some much-desired hope.

For those of you who have stuck with this journey to this point, I hope that you are seeing those additional characters were not just random but were developed to serve a purpose. Please don't ever skip over them. Do me that one favor. :)

As always, your feedback is invaluable to me…so please let me know what you think of this chapter. Thank you so much for continuing to read my story! Kim


	18. Chapter 18

**Her Smile Heals Me (part 18)**

**Friday, May 8, 2009**

**4:53 PM**

"One bite."

"No," Santana said in protest.

"It'll help you feel better to get something warm in your stomach," Brittany told her, holding up a spoon in front of her face.

"I don't want it…I'll barf all over you."

Brittany laughed, "No you won't…but even if you did then it's worth a try…to feel better?"

Santana shook her head, pulling her blanket up over her shoulders and sinking further into her bed.

"Please…one bite…for _me_?" Brittany tilted her head in the cute little way that always made Santana melt then smiled widely, her blue eyes twinkling under the light of the lamp on Santana's nightstand.

Santana grimaced then opened her mouth like a baby bird, swallowing the yellow broth.

"Good, huh?" Brittany smiled broader, "My grandmother made it."

Santana rolled her brown eyes and nodded reluctantly, pouting only for emphasis so she didn't seem so much like a pushover in front of Brittany, "…yeah."

Brittany dipped the spoon back into the round thermos, pulling out another bite with a small piece of chicken and a piece of celery, "Another one?"

Santana opened wider this time and accepted the bite of soup then three more after that before holding her hand up, "Enough….thank you."

"Apple juice?" the blonde reached over and picked up a small green carton from the nightstand.

Santana leaned forward, straightening the tiny white straw before taking a long sip.

Brittany set down the juice box then held the back of her hand to Santana's forehead then over her temples, "You feel cooler…I think your fever is going down...how's your head?"

"Still hurts…," she answered.

"Then I should let you go back to sleep until your mom gets home," Brittany sniffed and grabbed a tissue out of the nearby box, wiping at her nose, "I put your make-up work on your desk…there's a test in English on Tuesday…maybe we can study this weekend if you feel up to it."

Santana turned over on her side and adjusted her pillow underneath her. "You sound stuffy…are you getting sick too?" Santana asked sympathetically.

"Probably…my throat's been scratchy all day," Brittany told her, leaning down to put one of her white sneakers back on.

Santana said sheepishly, "I'm sorry…I guess _I_ got you sick, huh?"

The blonde straightened back up and looked at Santana with a warm smile, "Well, we have been swapping a lot of spit lately." She then leaned down to put on her other sneaker.

Santana was quiet for a second. "Britt…have you…," she trailed off.

Brittany finished tying her shoe then prompted, "…have I…what?"

"You aren't ever _sorry_that we…kiss…are you?" she asked hesitantly, unsure if she wanted Brittany's answer.

The tall blonde shrugged, "Why would I, silly…I love being close to you." Brittany leaned over and kissed Santana on the cheek, "Get some sleep, ok? I'll call you tonight."

Brittany turned out the lamp then moved toward the bedroom door.

The young Latina released the air that had been caught in her chest, feeling a warmth move through her that wasn't caused by her fever. As she watched Brittany put on her jacket and pick up her red and black backpack off the desk chair, she smiled then closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep. 

* * *

><p><strong>Sunday, June 26, 2011<strong>

**6:41 p.m.**

"One bite?"

Santana shook her head slightly.

"Honey, you need something in your stomach...to build up your strength," Brittany tried, "…just one bite…please…for _me_?"

Santana looked down, contemplating her body's internal protest against the look of extreme concern on the face of her beloved. She drew in a breath before opening her mouth to accept a bite of soup.

Brittany smiled as she eased a spoonful of broth that Quinn's mother warmed up into Santana's mouth. She didn't want to push her too hard so she put the spoon back in the oversized soup mug and sat quietly to see if Santana could hold down that bite. The blonde looked across at the brunette, their eyes locking for several seconds.

To Brittany, Santana looked older…definitely older than the eleven days since she'd last seen her…and she was several pounds thinner, but so was Brittany after not eating as much the last three or four weeks. The Latina had dark circles under her eyes, and though her brown eyes were still so familiar to Brittany, there was a change, a distance in them.

"Another bite?" Brittany tried, encouraged that the first one was successful.

Santana never broke her gaze but opened her mouth. It was clear to Brittany that she was just forcing herself through the motions.

A drop of broth rolled down Santana's chin, and Brittany reached up and wiped it away with the pad of her thumb. She set the soup mug on the side table next to the guest bed and took Santana's hands in hers. Brittany stretched out Santana's arms and inspected the exposed parts of her skin thoroughly, turning each of her arms slightly. Her heart hurt at how they were just skin on bone.

"What?" Santana said weakly, her brow furrowed.

"What did you do to yourself?" Brittany asked sadly, looking back up at her.

Santana shook her head slightly, not sure even she knew.

Brittany stared into Santana's eyes again as if she were trying to read them like tiny crystal balls, asking softly, "Drugs?"

Santana froze under the direct question then shook her head.

Brittany kept staring, trying to silently probe deeper into the last several days, until Santana broke eye contact and looked down.

Brittany sighed deeply. "Is that the truth?"

Santana closed her eyes, mentally exhausted. She remembered a lot of cigarettes and pot at first then a couple of pills here and a couple of pills there, but everything was a blur after that. Truth was she couldn't remember specifically what went into her body, and at the time, she could not have cared less.

Santana opened her eyes to see Brittany still staring. She was never able to lie to her so she shook her head.

Brittany drew Santana's hand up to her lips and kissed it several times, telling her, "You deserve so much better than some of the things you do to your body…but it's way worse what you're doing to your soul."

Santana's eyes glossed over with tears. "I hate it," she said with a raspy voice.

"Your body?"

"My soul."

Tears filled Brittany's eyes too, and she swallowed hard. "Well, we need to find a better way to protect you from yourself… because both are going to be with me for a long time," she confirmed.

Santana shook her head again, "You deserve better."

"You're right…," Brittany confirmed, "I deserve the _best_ of you."

"I'm stuck so deep…in my head," Santana confessed softly, every word taking great physical effort, "I don't know how to get out."

"Then bring me inside…," Brittany told her, pulling her into a tight embrace and kissing the top of her head, "…cause I will never give up on you…I will never give up on _us_."

Santana took a deep breath, enjoying the comfort she always found in the scent that was uniquely Brittany.

There was a soft knock on the door.

"Come in," Brittany said.

The door opened partially, and Rachel looked in at them, "It's me…is that alright?"

Brittany looked back at Santana who nodded and smiled, sitting back against the pillows behind her.

"Come on in," she told the smaller brunette.

Rachel walked in and around the bed toward Santana, "I want to hug you."

Santana stretched out her arms to her, and Rachel bent over and hugged her tightly. "I missed you so much."

Brittany could see the same look of alarm on Rachel's face that she felt inside.

"Dads send their love up…they're downstairs," she told her.

Santana smiled back at her. "I'll see them soon."

"Brittany…your presence was requested downstairs," Rachel told the blonde, "I'll be happy to sit with Santana for awhile."

"Oh, ok…then I'll be back soon," Brittany squeezed Santana's hand and leaned over and kissed her on the lips. 

* * *

><p>Brittany heard several voices coming from Quinn's living room as she stepped down the large staircase. "Somebody wanted to see me," she asked with slight confusion when she got to its bottom.<p>

"Brittany," Mrs. Pierce stood from the couch and walked over to her daughter.

"Mom, I told you on the phone I was going to sleep here tonight," she told her, surveying the group.

She saw Quinn and Cate sitting on one couch and Rachel's dads sitting on the other. Judy Fabray was in a side chair with her knees crossed, and Mrs. Pierce stepped past a dark-haired woman who was seated in a chair that faced the opposite direction from the stairs.

"I know, sweetie…," she confirmed, "I'm here for a different reason…come sit please."

Mrs. Pierce took her daughter by the hand and pulled her toward the couches, motioning her to sit next to Quinn who scooted closer toward Cate to make room. When Brittany sat down and turned toward the dark-haired woman, she saw it was Mrs. Lopez.

"Wait a minute…this is an awful idea…Santana is so fragile right now," Brittany panicked, standing back up.

"Brittany…sit please," her mother instructed.

"Did you bring her here?"

"Yes…and I will tell you why…," her mother reached down to pull Brittany's chin up with her hand, "…look at me and listen…instead of getting angry."

"I trusted you, Mom…why would you do this," Brittany looked at the older Latina out of the corner of her eye, and Mrs. Lopez looked down at her hands in her lap, shifting uncomfortably.

"Because…not until you have your own child, Brittany, will you _truly_ understand how their well-being is like your own blood coursing through your veins…," Mrs. Pierce explained, "…so I couldn't know that _my_ child is alive and safe while another mother is scared and hurting…she deserved to know Santana had been found, so I called her."

"Brittany, I am not here to take Santana…I assured your mother of that before she told me any details…and I assure _you_ of that right now, okay?" Mrs. Lopez interjected, "I brought her some of her things." She picked up a small duffle bag Santana always used for overnight trips and handed it to Brittany then she pulled out a cell phone from the purse at her feet, "And…will you give her this?"

Brittany accepted the bag and the phone, nodding.

"Brittany, I owe you an apology," Santana's mother said meekly.

The blonde teen looked down and shifted uncomfortably under the focused attention of everyone in the room.

"It was not right the way we treated you in our home…I am ashamed of it now," Mrs. Lopez paused, "I cannot speak for Santana's father…but I hope you will know that I am truly sorry."

Brittany could see the anguish in the face of Santana's mother, and her heart went out to the older woman. She looked up at her own mother and remembered her words of unconditional support when Brittany revealed how much she was in love with Santana. She wanted that same acceptance for Santana, and if forgiving Mrs. Lopez and trusting her at this moment was a step toward achieving that for her girlfriend then Brittany was willing to take that chance.

She stood up and moved toward Mrs. Lopez, bending over to hug her. "I accept your apology."

The older Latina squeezed her back tightly, "Santana is fortunate to have you in her life, Brittany."

"I hope so," she responded, straightening back up.

Mrs. Lopez wiped at her eyes with a crumpled tissue in her hand then pulled something from the front pocket of her skirt. "Brittany…I brought these for Santana…will you please give these to her?" she said as she handed photographs of Santana with Brittany to her.

Brittany slowly looked at the three photos, stopping on the one with the two of them at the top of the Empire State Building that Quinn had taken. They were so happy that day, having eaten their picnic lunch in Central Park then gone sight-seeing and with Quinn for her spontaneous haircut. The joy she saw on Santana's face in the picture brought tears to her eyes and a yearning to help Santana recapture that innocence.

She handed the photos back to Mrs. Lopez and said, "You should give them to her yourself." 

* * *

><p>There was a knock on the bedroom door.<p>

"Come in."

"You really should eat something, sweetie…you're becoming skin and bones."

"I'm not hungry, Mom."

"David…I know this confinement is getting harder for you, but you can't just spend all of your time within these four walls."

"I like it in here," he told her, never taking his eyes off the television screen, and his fingers never missing the appropriate buttons on his video game controller, "it's like my cave…I'm hibernating."

"Well, you are not a bear, David so you could at least have the good manners to come downstairs for dinner…," she scolded, setting a plate of food on an empty spot of his desk, "…your father is becoming less and less tolerant of this behavior."

"I just need to be left alone…is that too much to ask?" he shouted, throwing down his game controller, "…god!"

"David, what is happening to you?" Mrs. Karofsky was taken aback.

Dave took a deep breath when he saw the look of fear on his mother's face. She was an attractive woman, though her face had become increasingly weathered over the last few years, but he knew he had seen her current look before…when his father raised his voice toward them.

A vivid memory flashed in his mind of a look of terror on Santana's face as he hovered over her on the ground. He shook his head hard to rid himself of it.

"Mom…I'm scared," he confided to her.

"Why? You have nothing to fear, sweetie…Thomas said it's only a matter of time before this atrocity is over and we can return to normal," his mother encouraged.

"Because…I'm never going to be _normal_, Mom!" he raised his voice again. Tears came to David's eyes before he realized the enormity of giving voice to his inner torment, "My life is never going to be normal…_ever_."

"What are you talking about?"

David looked up at his mother. He felt such anguish inside himself, but there was something that blocked everything he wanted to say. "I'm just so afraid of disappointing you…and Dad," he told her.

"Oh, David, honey…I love you," she moved closer toward the bed where he sat, putting her arm around his broad shoulders.

"No, Mom…you love who you _think _ I am." 

* * *

><p>Quinn walked into the kitchen and found her mother filling the coffee maker with water.<p>

"What can I do to help?" the young blonde asked.

"I've got it, sweetheart…you go entertain your friends," Judy assured her.

"No, I want to help you," Quinn reached over her mother's head to pull down a coffee cup, setting it on the counter and reaching back for another one, "…I think we should spend more time together."

Judy Fabray smiled curiously at her teenage daughter, "Oh…really?"

"Yes…perhaps we should go to lunch sometime this week?"

Judy paused, thinking of her schedule, "I have my weekly manicure on Wednesday…you should join me then we could have some lunch…and maybe go to that dress shop you love over on Nall Street?"

"You don't have to buy me anything for me to want to spend time with you, Mom," Quinn assured her, setting the collected coffee cups on the silver serving tray then turning to pull several spoons out of the utensil drawer, "…you've just really worked hard to be there for me over the last year…and I want to make sure you know I appreciate it…that I appreciate _you_."

Judy moved over by where her daughter stood and put her arms around her from behind, "I regret every day that I was too weak to stand up to your father when you came to us for help."

Quinn's green eyes filled with tears at the sudden memory of being disowned by her father the night she revealed to them she was pregnant. Her emotions took her by surprise as she stood there in the kitchen, in front of her mother.

Quinn was not prepared for her vulnerability to overtake her, because she'd fought for so long to push away any of these feelings she had from that night, from the whole past year. She never wanted to think about those parts of her past, because it hurt too much.

"But…I am so proud of what a strong young woman you have turned out to be...," Quinn's mother continued, "…so maybe I did do something right in raising you." Judy kissed her on the cheek then moved toward the coffee pot which had finished brewing.

"Thank you for saying that…but I'm not sure how true it is," Quinn said softly.

"Why would you say that, Quinnie?" Judy asked, "You've been through so much, but you've held it together beautifully."

"Because on the inside…I'm just as much a mess as Santana…I just hide it better," the younger blonde told the older one.

Mrs. Fabray turned back around and looked at her. "Do you wish you'd kept Beth?"

"Yes…and no."

"Quinn, if you have changed your mind…then I will help you fight to get her back," Judy assured her, "I don't care if we have to sell this house and live in a condo…I will do whatever needs to be done to support you."

Quinn walked over to her mom and hugged her tightly, "Thank you for that…but I know she's in a good home with someone who loves her…I'm slowly making peace with that…I just really wish I could see her sometimes, you know?"

"Yes, I know, sweetheart…and I can only imagine what you go through each day…," Mrs. Fabray confirmed, "You learned, at the very start, what the hardest lesson of being a mother is…sacrificing _yourself_, your wants, your needs…for those of your child."

"It's definitely not easy."

"No, it's not," her mother squeezed her again.

"Cate's adopted."

"Oh?" Judy said, pulling away to complete the coffee set up on the silver tray, "She seems like a lovely girl."

"She's helped me realize that sacrifices can be positive," Quinn said, wiping a tear from her eye with her fingertips.

Quinn watched her mother move the sugar server to the tray, thinking to herself…_Okay, Quinn…it's now or never._

"Mom, stop…," Quinn put her hand on her mom's hand as she poured cream into a small server, and she turned Judy by her arm to face her, "I want to tell you something."

Judy looked at Quinn with a mixture of confusion and dread. "You're not about to tell me you're pregnant again, are you?"

"No, quite the opposite actually."

"Oh, thank goodness…," Mrs. Fabray sighed heavily, "…but...what's the opposite?"

"You'll be seeing a lot of Cate around here."

"Why, is Cate pregnant?"

"No, Mom…nobody is pregnant. Just please listen to me…this is hard enough already," Quinn pleaded with her mother, determined to push through the awkwardness spinning inside her head.

"Quinnie…is it your father? He's always had a bad heart. He may not want me to know, but you can tell me."

Quinn put her hands on each of Judy Fabray's upper arms to steady her mom's focus back on her. "I'm dating Cate, Mom…there, I said it…," Quinn let out a breath of air and a small laugh, the feeling of complete relief washing over her, then she continued with every thought from inside her head, "…she's wonderful and fabulous…and brilliant…and I'm just so happy that I met her…and…so…no, I'm not sure if that makes me a lesbian…I haven't quite figured that out yet…but yes, I'm happy…for _once_ in my whole life…this actually feels right."

Quinn's mother looked at her with eyes the size of the saucers she'd previously set on the serving tray then she swallowed hard, forced a smile, and turned back to the center island of the kitchen, commenting, "That's wonderful, dear."

"You're just saying that…aren't you?" Quinn challenged.

"No, actually…I've been preparing myself for this exact moment for years," Judy turned and smiled tightly again, "I just always thought it would be your sister."

"Oh…well…," Quinn paused in total confusion, trying to think quickly if she'd ever missed any obvious clues, "…okay then."

"Grab the coffee, dear…," Judy said, picking up the silver tray with all the other necessary items, "…let's serve our guests." 

* * *

><p>Rachel sat quietly in a side chair she had pulled up next to Santana who was under the covers in Quinn's guest bed. The shorter brunette held Santana's hand, gently stroking it and humming to her different songs that came to mind.<p>

She watched closely the blank face of the taller brunette who had recently become a sister to her. Rachel would have thought she was alone in the room if she weren't staring at Santana. She continued to hum, filling the silence, sadly noting there appeared to be no more fight left in the once fierce Latina who now sat motionless in the bed.

"Where are you?" Rachel stopped humming and asked, tears filling her eyes.

There was no response even though Santana's eyes were wide open, breaking Rachel's heart and causing her to lose control of her emotions. She reached up and turned Santana's head to face her, "Please Santana…we all want to help you…but none of us know how anymore."

Santana's dark eyes flinched, and she blinked.

"You hear me, don't you?" Rachel sniffed hard.

Tears emerged, and Santana nodded.

"I love you," Rachel assured her, bringing her hand up, kissing the back of it, then holding it to her cheek.

Santana nodded again. Rachel returned to humming, and Santana closed her eyes.

They sat like that for awhile until there was a soft knock on the bedroom door.

Rachel wasn't sure if Santana was asleep so she stood and went to open it, surprised when Mrs. Lopez was on the other side.

"_Please_ don't take her," Rachel whispered with quiet desperation in her voice.

Mrs. Lopez shook her head and cupped Rachel's cheek with her left hand, "That's not why I'm here…I just want to look in on her briefly."

Rachel could see the sincerity in the older Latina's face. "She's not talking right now…so don't think it's you."

"Ok, dear…," Mrs. Lopez moved inside looking over at the bed, but she turned as Rachel started to leave the room and said to the small brunette, "Rachel…thank you…to you and to your fathers."

Rachel nodded and smiled then closed the door behind her.

Mrs. Lopez turned back toward the bed and moved cautiously, setting Santana's duffle bag she'd brought with her near the closet door next to Brittany's bag.

She then sat down in the chair near the bed, setting her purse at her feet and looking carefully at her daughter's serene face. Only a minute past before she lost all the self-restraint she'd held onto for the past four weeks, since standing firm as her husband forced Santana out of their home. She pulled her only child into her arms and held her tightly, sobbing.

"Mom?" the teen said in weak confusion.

"I'm here, _cariña_," Mrs. Lopez said as she gently rocked back and forth.

Santana innately shifted more into her mother's embrace, pressing her face further into her breast and starting to faintly cry.

"I am very sorry, Santana…," Mrs. Lopez told her, tenderly stroking her soft, dark hair, "…for so _many_ things."

"Me too," Santana forced out of her head.

"No, no, no…you have nothing to be sorry for, my sweet love."

Santana pulled away slightly to look up at her mom, "I'm a disgrace."

Mrs. Lopez reached down to her handbag at her feet, pulling out a black compact mirror and opening it to hold in front of Santana's face, "Look here…do you know what I see?"

Santana turned her head, avoiding looking directly into her own image as she had done for nearly two weeks now.

Her mother turned her chin back to the mirror with her fingertips. "Look again…see right there?" her mother pointed at Santana's reflection in the small mirror, "My beautiful baby girl…who the nurse placed in my arms seventeen years ago."

A tear rolled down Santana's cheek as she looked down again.

"You were the most beautiful baby…a head full of dark, curly hair…smooth skin…and the biggest brown eyes I'd ever looked into…," her mother continued, remembering back, "…you were perfect then…and you are perfect now…and may God forgive me that I ever made you feel differently."

Santana leaned her head over on her mother's shoulder, more of her inner torment escaping through her tears. "Daddy?" she asked.

"Your father will have to answer for himself, Santana…I don't know how he feels…," Mrs. Lopez answered truthfully, "…he has always been able to separate himself from his emotions, to just turn them on and off like a switch…I don't know if it is because he is a doctor…or if that's what makes him such a good one."

_On and off like a switch_…Santana repeated in her head…that was exactly how she would describe her father. _On and off like a switch_…was exactly how she would describe herself. She took a deep breath, realizing that emotional tactic only led to one of two ways…either to rage, like with her father…or to madness.

"I know he has affected us both over the years, but I don't want there to be anymore distance between us, Santana," her mother told her, "I want to help you heal…I want us to work together for you to be healthy and happy again…I will help you however I can, ok?"

Santana nodded, believing her mother's words. She wanted herself to be better too. She had so much to say, but it was all locked inside her. She wanted to laugh again, to sing again, to find the joys she once felt. She truly wanted to break through the darkness that had swallowed her whole.

"I want you to do me one thing please," Mrs. Lopez asked.

"Okay."

"You are not physically well either…I want you to see your doctor…," she said bluntly, "…say you will go, and I will call first thing in the morning…yes?"

Santana nodded, "yes."

"Thank you…oh, thank you, Lord…that gives me such hope," Mrs. Lopez pulled her daughter toward her again for an embrace, looking upward toward her higher power, "I prayed so hard, Santana…so very hard…and God has seen fit to give me another chance as your mother."

Santana's thoughts of any god had been bitter since her rape so she wasn't as willing to offer praise to something unknown, but she knew her mother's beliefs were strong…and if that brought her strength during all of this then it was not worth challenging those beliefs now. Santana's thoughts instead went to the person who gave her strength…_Brittany_…and her heart fluttered.

"Brittany?" she asked her mother, unsure if her girlfriend was still at Quinn's house.

"She's downstairs…," Mrs. Lopez confirmed, adding sweetly, "…she is staying close by, don't you worry."

Santana pushed her body back up on her pillows, exhausted from all her recent physical exertion after days of near lifelessness.

"Which reminds me…I found these in your nightstand…I'm sure they mean a lot to you so I wanted to bring them," her mother said, pulling out the photographs of Santana and Brittany, placing them in her daughter's hands.

Santana looked at the one on top where she was kissing Brittany. She turned it over and read Brittany's message _I love you a million times over! Britt_, and Santana involuntarily smiled broader than she had in two weeks. She could actually feel the smile on her face, and it felt good to her…and she hadn't had to force it or will herself to do it…it just happened, on its own. It was just the tiniest pinpoint of light inside her pit of darkness, but it was light nonetheless.

"Thank you," she said aloud, still looking at the pictures.

Mrs. Lopez ran a gentle caress down the back of her daughter's head, seeing the smile on her face. Her voice broke as she acknowledged to Santana, "She loves you very much."

Santana smiled again, "She's why I'm alive." 

* * *

><p><em><strong>Regrets collect like old friends<strong>_

_**Here to relive your darkest moments**_

_**I can see no way, I can see no way**_

_**And all of the ghouls come out to play…**_

_**And every demon wants his pound of flesh**_

_**But I like to keep some things to myself**_

_**I like to keep my issues strong**_

_**It's always darkest before the dawn…**_

_**And I've been a fool and I've been blind**_

_**I can never leave the past behind**_

_**I can see no way, I can see no way**_

_**I'm always dragging that horse around…**_

_**And our love is pastured such a mournful sound**_

_**Tonight I'm gonna bury that horse in the ground**_

_**So I like to keep my issues strong**_

_**But it's always darkest before the dawn…**_

_**Shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, shake it out oh woaaah**_

_**Shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, shake it out oh woaaah**_

_**And it's hard to dance with a devil on your back**_

_**So shake him off, oh woah…**_

_**I am done with my graceless heart**_

_**So tonight I'm gonna cut it out and then restart**_

_**Cause I like to keep my issues strong**_

_**It's always darkest before the dawn…**_

_**And it's hard to dance with a devil on your back**_

_**And given half the chance would I take any of it back**_

_**It's a fine romance but it's left me so undone**_

_**It's always darkest before the dawn…**_

_**And I'm damned if I do and I'm damned if I don't**_

_**So here's to drinks in the dark at the end of my road**_

_**And I'm ready to suffer and I'm ready to hope**_

_**It's a shot in the dark and right at my throat**_

_**Cause looking for heaven, found the devil in me**_

_**Looking for heaven, found the devil in me**_

_**Well what the hell, I'm gonna let it happen to me…**_

_**And it's hard to dance with a devil on your back**_

_**So shake him off, oh woah…**_

Brittany kissed her mother goodbye and waved from Quinn's front door as she watched her and Mrs. Lopez walk to the blue Sienna and get inside it.

The tall blonde sighed deeply, the mental and physical exhaustion of the last seven hours suddenly overtaking her body. She was encouraged with how long Santana's mother spent upstairs with her, because it seemed to do both of them so much good. As angry as she was at her mom initially, Brittany was secretly very glad her mother went with her gut instinct on contacting Mrs. Lopez.

Brittany closed the front door and walked back through the living room, seeing Quinn cuddled with Cate on the couch, watching a movie.

"Goodnight," she told them as she passed and headed up the stairs.

"Goodnight, Britt…," she heard Quinn say behind her as she climbed the last few steps, "…let me know if you guys need anything."

Brittany rounded the corner and opened the guest room door, seeing Santana's silhouette on the bed in the moonlight. She closed the door gently so she wouldn't wake her then she stepped over toward the closet to take off her jeans and her t-shirt, removing her bra and pulling on a pink tank top to wear to bed with her underwear.

She stretched her long arms up then rolled her shoulders all around before popping her neck side to side to release some of the tension she'd felt all day in her upper body.

Brittany unscrewed the top to a half-empty water bottle which she picked up from the nightstand, taking a long drink. She then climbed into the bed and moved all the way across it to spoon up behind Santana, pulling her as close as she physically could.

Brittany was pleasantly surprised when she heard a soft "I love you, Britt" from Santana, but hearing those words were like hearing a beautiful love song from the Latina.

"I love you too, honey," Brittany whispered directly into Santana's ear before kissing her tenderly down the length of her neck, smiling when she heard a little moan escape from the brunette. _Welcome back, Santana…_Brittany internally purred, her lips curling into a satisfied grin…_welcome back._

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note<strong>: The song at the end is Shake it Out by Florence + the Machine.


	19. Chapter 19

**Author's note**: I'm so excited that everyone seemed to really enjoy Ch 18. I think you all will enjoy the amount of info contained in this chapter too. It's one of my longest chapters thus far.

Be sure to check out the end note for the top 5 names for Brittany's little sister. I appreciate how much interested you all showed. You guys gave me so many wonderful suggestions. It was really hard to pick the final choices!

**And to "Amazed Critic"**– I'm honored. Thank you so very much. :)

* * *

><p><strong>Her Smile Heals Me (part 19)<strong>

"How was Santana yesterday?" Mrs. Lopez asked, concern in her voice.

Brittany looked up from the copy of Ladies Home Journal she was thumbing through and answered, "She was pretty good…she slept most of the day…but she did eat twice so I was glad for that."

"Did she say much?" Santana's mother inquired.

Brittany smiled at the older Latina, encouraged by a few conversations with Santana throughout the day on Monday, "Her words are coming more and more."

Mrs. Lopez sighed with relief, "That's great to hear."

"I'm glad you were able to get her an appointment so quickly," Brittany said.

"I called as soon as the office opened yesterday, and they had a cancellation for this afternoon," Mrs. Lopez explained.

Brittany saw Santana out of the corner of her eye as she came walking back to the waiting area.

"That sucked," Santana said as she sat in a seat next to Brittany, facing her mother, in a group of padded chairs which lined the wall along the far corner of the lobby.

Brittany could see a white bandage on the inside-bend of both of Santana's arms and a beige band-aid, covering a large cotton ball, taped to the back of her left hand. "What happened?"

"The lab couldn't find a vein…," she told them, "….the tech said I was dehydrated."

"Oh goodness, mija," Mrs. Lopez said sympathetically.

"He blew out the first two…," Santana said then pointed to the band-aid on her hand, "…before getting this one to work."

"Ouch," Brittany said, wrinkling her nose and taking Santana's opposite hand into hers, interlocking their fingers and bringing it up to her lips for a kiss, "I'm sorry, hon."

"Thanks," Santana smiled warmly back at Brittany.

Mrs. Lopez cast her eyes downward at the girls' display of affection, subtly shifting her gaze around the rest of the waiting area, before looking back down at the Reader's Digest in her hands, swallowing hard but saying nothing.

Santana lowered her head and sat quietly for a few seconds, alarming Brittany.

"Are you okay, honey?" she leaned toward the brunette to inquire in a hushed tone.

"I feel light-headed," she whispered.

Brittany looked up at Mrs. Lopez with concern, "She's dizzy."

"Let me ask the receptionist for some water," the older Latina said, patting Santana's knee as she stood, "Just close your eyes and sit still."

Brittany watched over her shoulder as Mrs. Lopez spoke to a red-haired woman at the front counter then turned back to Santana, "Do you need food too, you think? I can walk across the street to the gas station and get you a granola bar or some cookies or something?"

"Just sit with me," Santana squeezed Brittany's hand, without opening her eyes.

Brittany sat for a few minutes, watching her girlfriend closely, and she could see Santana's hands shaking.

"Here you go…take small sips," Mrs. Lopez said as she sat back down and stretched out her hand with the clear plastic cup that held cold water.

Brittany leaned forward to take the cup and hand it to Santana who was trying not to make sudden moves. She put the small cup in Santana's hand then rubbed her back gently as she took a sip then another.

Santana's mother dug around in her hand bag until she found a peppermint then handed it to Brittany, "Try this…her blood sugar may be low."

Brittany looked up at Mrs. Lopez, smiling, and took the mint to unwrap it for Santana, replying, "Thank you."

Mrs. Lopez smiled and nodded. She was trying to push her maternal instinct back some in order to allow Brittany to continue to care for Santana, since it was clear to the older Latina that Brittany brought such comfort to her daughter.

"Santana?" a nurse called from the entry that opened to the back section of the doctor's office.

Santana stood slowly, pulling on Brittany's arm, "Come with me?"

"You sure?" the blonde wasn't sure about the circumstances and privacy issues.

"Please," Santana's eyes pleaded more than her words so Brittany stood and walked behind Santana as she followed the nurse through the back corridor.

"Right in here," the nurse instructed, sliding Santana's chart into the clear holder on the front of the exam room door before ushering them inside, "Take a seat up here…and I'll get your blood pressure and temp before the doctor comes in."

When the nurse left the room, Brittany helped Santana with her balance as she stepped up on the metal step and turned to sit at the foot of the gray exam table, handing Brittany the mostly-empty cup. The tall blonde moved to the side of the small, square room as the nurse returned, pushing a medical cart in front of her.

The older woman did not say much as she methodically put the blood pressure cuff around Santana's slender arm, fastening the velcro in place. She pushed two buttons on the cart which beeped loudly before the sleeve started automatically filling itself with air while she slid the thermometer into a plastic cover.

"Open please," the nurse said to Santana before she placed the thermometer under her tongue and held it there until it beeped, "Thank you."

The nurse removed the sleeve of the blood pressure machine once it was completed with its two cycles. "Your blood pressure is high for your age," she commented as she wrote something on a small notepad she took out of the side pocket of her purple scrubs then she walked up to the cabinet over the interior sink, removing a blue paper gown and setting it on the counter, "Ok, go ahead and remove your clothes, even undergarments, and put this on so that it opens in the front…I'll be back in a few minutes."

Brittany smiled politely when the nurse looked over at her before leaving the room, shutting the door as she walked out.

Santana slid off the exam table and gave Brittany a look of dread before she lifted her arms and removed her white, cotton blouse, laying it across the arm of a side chair near the sink, before removing her sandals and denim skirt.

"Did you want anymore of this water?" Brittany asked her, motioning with the cup she still held in her hand.

Santana accepted the cup and drank the last sip of water then tossed it into a silver trash canister.

Brittany unfolded the paper gown for Santana as she removed her bra. The Latina turned and pushed her brown-skinned arms through the two holes in the gown Brittany held up for her, removing her white panties before stepping back up on the exam table and leaning back on it with the gown wrapped around her and her ankles crossed.

As Santana sat there awaiting the return of the nurse, Brittany busied herself with neatly folding Santana's clothes, respectfully hiding her bra and panties between the folded skirt and white shirt on top.

"Nervous?" the tall blonde asked Santana, rubbing her hand up and down Santana's upper arm, the thin paper of the gown crinkling as her hand moved.

The Latina let out a slow breath of air, trying to calm herself, "Yeah."

"Did the water help your head?"

"Yes…thank you," Santana gave her a warm smile of gratitude for being with her during this appointment.

"You're sure you want me in here during this?"

Santana reached her hand out, and Brittany took it in hers, "Definitely."

The girls sat quietly for a few minutes until there was a light rap on the wood of the door. "Ready?" the nurse asked through a crack.

"Yes," Santana confirmed, shifting nervously.

The nurse pushed the door the rest of the way opened and walked in carrying a silver tray covered in blue paper, setting it on a silver stand near the sink next to where Brittany was seated.

An attractive woman in her late thirties walked in behind the nurse, flipping through Santana's chart.

She looked up and acknowledged Santana then turned to Brittany, "Hi, I'm Dr. Westin."

"Brittany," she responded with a polite smile.

"Santana, let me have you sit up," the doctor moved up next to the exam table. She pulled out her stethoscope and placed it in her ears while putting the round portion against Santana's upper chest, "Take a deep breath for me…good…another…good…one more."

Santana sat straight up on the table and quietly followed the doctor's instructions as she moved the round part of her stethoscope to the teen's back, "Deep breath…again…again...okay."

The young brunette relaxed back against the raised portion of the exam table.

"Your breathing sounds labored…," Dr. Westin commented as she removed her scope, draping it around her neck, then she felt down Santana's neck on both sides then her shoulders then slowly down the rest of the Latina's body, "Do you smoke Santana?"

Brittany bit at her lip, hoping Santana would be truthful.

"Occasionally," the Latina stated.

Brittany rolled her eyes at that answer but held her tongue.

"Okay, lay back for me please," the doctor requested, encouragingly patting Santana on her shoulder. The young doctor opened a portion of the gown so she could manipulate Santana's stomach muscles, "You haven't been getting enough fluids, dear…your body is dehydrated."

"So I hear…," Santana said, looking down at the white bandages on her inner arms.

"The lab tech had a little trouble drawing blood, I see," the doctor commented, picking up Santana's chart again, "Your blood pressure is high…as is your temperature…have you felt tired lately?"

"That's all I've felt," Santana answered truthfully.

"Muscle aches?"

"Yes."

"Headaches?"

"Yes."

"Any nausea?"

"Yes."

"Any trouble urinating?"

"I haven't had to go much lately," the brunette answered honestly.

"Uhuh…we need to get that regulated quickly or your organs are going to be compromised," the doctor told her sternly but with a caring smile, "Chronic dehydration can lead to seizures…and to respiratory and kidney failure…and the smoking is not helping."

Brittany took in a deep breath as her concern about Santana's condition was affirmed.

"We'll get you started on a high-dose multi-vitamin until we get your labwork back and see what specific deficits you have…before you leave, Cynthia will give you a shot of potassium which should help you feel better immediately."

Santana looked over her shoulder at Brittany who simply smiled back at her.

"You need to drink more fluids and eat better, Santana…once you do then your body will start to feel stronger and you'll have more energy," Dr. Westin said, "Are you still taking your medication Dr. Shane prescribed?"

"Um, I've sort of been forgetting lately," Santana answered.

"When do you see her again?"

"I have an appointment this Thursday," the teen told her.

"Good…be sure to talk to her about getting back on schedule with that, ok?"

"Okay."

"I'll have your chart emailed to her as well, because some of the medications prescribed for anxiety and depression can cause the same symptoms you are experiencing...," Dr. Westin explained, "…she and I will discuss that so we can make sure you are on the best choice for your body."

Brittany felt relief after hearing that information.

The doctor sat down on a round stool with wheels and crossed her legs at the knees so she could make a note in Santana's chart. She looked up, saying, "I need to ask you a few personal questions."

Santana looked at the nurse standing to her left then at Brittany sitting to her right.

"Should I leave?" Brittany asked.

"No, it's okay…I want you in here," Santana assured her, "Go ahead."

"How have you been feeling since the rape, Santana?"

"Physically? Okay, I guess."

"No bleeding?"

"Nothing that wasn't normal," Santana answered.

"Good…have you had any additional pain or numbness since you were released from the hospital?"

"Umm…not really," the Latina swallowed hard under the focused attention.

"No pain or burning when you urinate?"

"Not recently, no."

Brittany felt a rage flair inside her. Santana had refused to talk about any of the physical damage she suffered from the rape so Brittany never really thought about the specific pain and discomfort Santana had been experiencing over the last couple of months.

"Have you been sexually active in the last few weeks?"

Santana and Brittany both froze under the line of questioning. To Brittany, it seemed like a legitimate medical question, but it was still embarrassingly uncomfortable in the company of the doctor and nurse.

"Yes," Santana answered accurately.

"Your previous prescription for birth control would have expired…have you been careful to use protection?"

Santana heard Brittany clear her throat, and she saw out of the corner of her eye as the blonde shifted uncomfortably in her chair. "Birth control isn't necessary, Dr. Westin," Santana tried to cryptically explain.

"Are you having intercourse with penetration?" the doctor simplified for clarity.

"Yes…but um…," Santana trailed off nervously.

The young doctor observed both teens look down. "Are you a lesbian, Santana?"

"Yes," Santana blushed.

"It's nothing for you to be embarrassed about, dear…I'm your doctor…if you want to discuss it further then just let me know, ok?" Dr. Westin patted her sweetly on the lower portion of her leg.

"Brittany's my girlfriend," Santana shared, much to Brittany's surprise.

Dr. Westin smiled warmly at the teens then continued matter-of-factly, "Alright…well, you missed your six-week checkup so we're going to go ahead and do a pelvic exam today."

"Let me lean this all the way back," the nurse said as she adjusted the exam table, "Go ahead and move all the way to the end, as far as you can."

Santana swallowed hard and adjusted herself on the table as instructed, reaching back for Brittany who took her hand and squeezed it.

"If you'll just put your foot here…," the doctor helped guide the teen's foot into one of the extended stirrups as Santana did the same with her other one, "…and just relax your legs, ok?"

Brittany nervously chewed on her upper lip, not sure if she should watch or look away, ultimately doing a mixture of both.

The doctor put on a pair of rubber gloves as the nurse covered Santana's lower half with a paper drape before pushing the silver tray closer to the doctor for easy access.

Santana looked back over her shoulder at Brittany and smiled a "this totally sucks" smile. Brittany moved to the edge of the chair to close most of the distance between her and Santana, leaning over and caressing the top of the brunette's head.

After several minutes, the exam was over, and the doctor removed her gloves as the nurse covered the tray of silver medical apparatus and pushed it back toward the wall.

"You can sit back up," the nurse told her as she raised the back portion of the exam table again to make it more comfortable for their patient.

"The medicated ointment appears to have worked well…though I do still see some inflammation and redness around the edges of the tissue where tearing was the deepest…," Dr. Westin reported, making notes in Santana's chart, "I'm going to prescribe another round of antibiotics."

Santana had heard this information before, but Brittany had not, and she was sure she heard a faint gasp from the tall blonde seated close to her.

"I also want you to get the ointment refilled and continue to use it because it has a steroid in it that will help…," the doctor advised, "…it's important to avoid scarring as much as possible…we don't want you to have any issues later down the road when you are ready to conceive children, ok?"

"Okay," she confirmed to her doctor.

"I want to see you back in two weeks…don't forget this time…," Dr. Westin said as she stood and walked up close to Santana and Brittany who were inches apart, instructing under her breath, "And be very careful in the sex department until you are completely healed, ok?"

Santana looked at Brittany before agreeing, "Okay."

"Good…," the doctor smiled at both of them, adding in Brittany's direction, "Brittany it was nice to meet you…I want you to make sure she eats consistently…broth, soups, vegetables…will all help tremendously."

"I will," Brittany returned the smile.

"And drink plenty of fluids…," Dr. Westin looked directly at Santana and patted her shoulder, "water, fruit juice, Gatorade…build back up those electrolytes…but stay away from coffee and alcohol, got it?"

"Got it…," Santana agreed.

"And no more smoking." Dr. Westin looked at her sternly.

"I'm quitting."

"Great idea…now sit tight and Cynthia will get you that injection then once you're dressed…they'll have your prescriptions for you at the check-out...," the doctor instructed, "…and don't forget to make your next appointment…two weeks out, got it?"

"Yes, Dr. Westin," Santana nodded obediently.

"Thank you," Brittany said as the doctor and nurse left the room.

"Please don't say 'I told you so'," Santana said softly as she waited for the nurse to return.

"I would never tell you that," Brittany said back to her with a smile, mentally grateful someone else did for her.

"Alright, this will be quick…just roll onto your left side please," the nurse instructed, reentering the exam room.

After the nurse administered the injection, she told her, "Just lay there for five minutes then you can get dressed and go up front."

"Thank you," the brunette told her as she left again, adding toward Brittany, "Oww."

Brittany grimaced back, "Sorry."

After five minutes of idle chit-chat, mostly consisting of Brittany chatting and Santana mentally wishing she had a cigarette, Santana slid off the table and removed the paper gown, throwing it in the trash can and accepting her undergarments from Brittany who could read on her girlfriend's face how horrible that whole ordeal was for her.

Once Santana was fully clothed, Brittany told her, "Come here…I want to hold you for a second."

Santana moved into Brittany's outstretched arms, resting her head on the taller girl's chest and enjoying the comfort she felt when Brittany enveloped her in a tight embrace.

"What's this for?" Santana asked, feeling Brittany kiss her on her forehead.

Brittany squeezed tighter, confirming, "Just because I can."

* * *

><p>Quinn turned off the ignition of her Jetta and got out, moving toward the outside staircase that led up to Cate's garage apartment. Before she reached the top, the front door opened and the attractive brunette stepped out, carrying her black guitar case in one hand and a rolled quilt under the other.<p>

"Ok, this is getting even more mysterious…," Quinn beamed, "…when do I get to know where we're going tonight?"

Cate stepped down four steps to close the gap between them and kissed the shorter blonde on the lips, "…when we get there." The older girl smiled and winked then passed up Quinn on the stairs, heading down toward the car.

Quinn pushed the automatic alarm on her key chain to unlock the car as Cate walked up to it. She watched as she slid her guitar into the backseat then threw the quilt on top.

"You driving?" Quinn asked as she walked up behind Cate, putting her arms around her for a hug.

"Yes ma'am!" Cate kissed the blonde again then took the keys to circle around to the driver's side of the car.

"Do I even get a hint?" Quinn asked, climbing into the passenger side of the car, closing the door shut, and putting on her seatbelt.

Cate paused as she put the key in the ignition, "Hmm…a hint? Something you told me about you on our first date."

"Wait, was this on our first date that I didn't know was a date…or our official first date?" Quinn teased.

"Our official first date to see Grand Hotel…," Cate confirmed, "…though actually, you told me at the restaurant after the movie."

Quinn laughed, "Geez, thanks for the hint…that really narrows it down." The blonde teen took Cate's hand in hers and brought it up for a kiss.

"Patience…," Cate told her with a wink.

"Oh okay."

The girls rode together, chatting about various topics, until Quinn could tell Cate was driving past the edge of town toward Lake Lima.

"You don't have a small shovel and a body bag rolled into that blanket do you?" Quinn asked jokingly.

"Maybe…," Cate teased, "Guess you'll have to trust me, huh?"

Quinn paused and looked at Cate's silhouette in the light of a passing car, and she smiled, thinking…_I do trust you, Cate…with my heart_.

Cate turned the car down a low-lit side road that wound its way down toward a small information booth in the middle of the road. The booth was closed, but the entrance was opened so Cate passed it slowly and continued up the paved road.

"It's pretty dark out here…that's not helping your cause, Catherine…," Quinn chuckled.

"I don't need light, I know these woods like the back of my hand."

"Again…not helping!"

Cate laughed hard as she pulled the Jetta off the paved road into a small cut out in a group of trees and slowed to a stop, "Okay, lovely…let's go!"

She got out of the car and circled the back of it to help Quinn as she stepped out into the ankle-high grass.

"I think I'm over-dressed for this outing," Quinn commented looking down at her sundress and wedge-heeled espadrilles, each with a large pink flower on the toe.

"You'll be fine," Cate assured her, removing the blanket and guitar case from the back of the car and closing the back passenger-side door. She handed the quilt to Quinn and said, "Here, you carry my shovel and duct tape."

Quinn playfully slapped the older girl's shoulder, saying, "Stop it!"

"Kidding," Cate laughed, grabbing Quinn's hand and pulling her deeper into the wooded area, "Come on."

The young blonde could tell they were walking down a slight hill, but the ground was not solid at every step. Quinn was having trouble keeping her balance with her higher heels, and she could not see very well even though Cate was leading the way. Tripping over a rock or something hard, she hollered out, "Aahh…Cate."

"You okay?" the tall brunette asked, stopping and turning back toward the younger girl.

"Maybe I should take these shoes off."

"We're nearly there…here, hop on…," Cate suggested turning her back to Quinn.

"Seriously?" Quinn wrinkled her nose at the idea of appearing helpless.

"It's okay…when's the last time you had a piggy-back ride?" Cate made light of it.

Quinn hiked up the skirt of her dress and jumped up on Cate's back. Quinn felt the taller girl link her right arm under her right leg to hoist her up, and the teen tightened her grasp around Cate's neck.

Cate walked the two of them the rest of the way down the path until they were out of the tree line and Quinn could see they were approaching the edge of the lake. Without the coverage of the trees, the light from the moon shined on the water and illuminated the darkness much more than Quinn anticipated.

"Oh wow, it's beautiful out here," she said as Cate lowered her back to the flatter ground.

"See…I told you to trust me," Cate pulled Quinn by the waist toward her, kissing her tenderly.

Quinn flushed under the sentiment though Cate couldn't see that in the night surrounding them.

"This way," Cate walked a few feet more until she stopped at a flat clearing and set down her guitar case. She took the quilt from Quinn, unfolding it and spreading it on the ground, she stepped out of her black Doc Marten boots and suggested, "Now you can remove those shoes."

The blonde followed Cate's lead, removing her wedges, then she sat down next to her in the center of the large blanket and looked up, observing, "The stars are so bright tonight."

"That's because they're looking down at you," Cate said sweetly, making Quinn's heart swoon.

"Thank you for this," Quinn said softly, leaning over onto Cate, now remembering telling her about how much she loved when her father took her and her older sister outside to look at the constellations. Those moments with him seemed like such a lifetime ago now that Quinn saw her father as such a different man. _He certainly would see me differently now_…Quinn thought, looking up at Cate's face in the bright moonlight.

"You're very welcome…," the older girl smiled broadly, "…sooo…tell me some of the constellations."

Quinn leaned all the way back onto the blanket, pulling Cate with her and pointing, "…see that bright star there? Then those…there…there…and there?" Quinn pointed until she had outlined seven brightly lit stars, "That's the big dipper."

Cate held Quinn close and followed the teen's finger with her gaze. "Yes, I see."

"And though it's hard to see without a telescope…the stars on the outer portion there…see, on the outer bowl of the dipper?…just over the horizon? They form part of Ursa Major."

"Ursa Major?"

"The great bear."

"Fascinating," Cate replied, enjoying seeing Quinn excited about sharing something from her childhood.

The two girls cuddled together on the big blanket, gazing up at the stars for awhile, as Quinn pointed out different things she remembered from her youth.

"Okay, I shared with you…now you play for me," the young blonde said.

"Now?"

"Right now…I'm ready for my own private concert," Quinn assured her with a wink.

Cate sat up and opened her case to remove her acoustic guitar, sitting crossed-leg, while Quinn rolled over on her side to face the older girl.

"What shall I play?" Cate asked, strumming softly to warm up her fingers.

"You choose," Quinn smiled.

"Hmm…well…," Cate strummed as she thought, a sudden feeling of bashfulness buzzing inside her mind, wanting to pick the right song to serenade Quinn for the first time, "How about some classic rock?"

Quinn told her, "Okay…sounds perfect."

Cate started softly strumming the chords then began to sing in a very pretty, melodic voice:

_It's a little bit funny, this feeling inside_

_I'm not one of those who can easily hide_

_I don't have much money, but boy if I did_

_I'd buy a big house where we both could live…_

_So excuse me forgetting, but these things I do_

_See I've forgotten if they're green or they're blue_

_Anyway the thing is, what I really mean_

_Yours are the sweetest eyes I've ever seen…_

_And you can tell everybody this is your song_

_It may be quite simple, but now that it's done_

_I hope you don't mind, I hope you don't mind_

_that I put down in words_

_How wonderful life is now you're in the world._

_If I was a sculptor, but then again no_

_Or a girl who makes potions in a traveling show_

_I know it's not much, but it's the best I can do_

_My gift is my song, and this one's for you…_

_And you can tell everybody, this is your song_

_It may be quite simple, but now that it's done_

_I hope you don't mind, I hope you don't mind_

_That I put down in words_

_How wonderful life is now you're in the world._

Quinn was truly touched at the message in the lyrics of Cate's choice of song and the beauty of the girl smiling back at her. "You better be careful, Cate Boyd…," Quinn warned as she pulled herself up to her knees to sit face to face with Cate, "…you're going to make me fall in love with you."

Cate broadened her grin and looked downward, blushing.

Quinn took the guitar from the brunette and gently set it on top of her closed case then pulled Cate down on top of her, kissing her passionately.

The two of them explored each other for several minutes as they kissed deeper and more energetically. Quinn ran her hands through the older girl's wavy, brown hair then down Cate's spine to rest on her slim hips, slipping her fingers just under the waistband of Cate's jeans.

Cate could tell that Quinn was getting bolder with her hand placements, enjoying their growing intimacy, but the older girl was still consciously respectful of Quinn's questionable sexuality, never wanting to push too hard.

"Cate," Quinn whispered breathlessly.

"Yes," Cate paused to respond.

"I want to make love to you…_right now_…but I don't know what to do."

"Are you sure?" the brunette's mind started racing.

"Definitely…," Quinn's mind started racing.

"Then don't worry about what to do…just let me take care of _you_…," Cate whispered in Quinn's ear, "…but…if you want to stop at any point then just say so, ok?"

"Uhuh…but I don't want to stop," Quinn said then grabbed Cate's face and pulled it down to meet her lips, opening her mouth for Cate's tongue.

The older girl tried to subtly find a way for her hands to penetrate the cotton of Quinn's form-fitting, white sundress, but after a few minutes of clumsy groping, she gave up and laughed, "How do I get you out of this thing?"

Quinn was glad for the momentary break in her rising nervousness, sharing the laugh, "The zipper is on the side here."

"Ahh, gotcha…," Cate said appreciatively, reaching around her and fumbling with locating the metal of the zipper under the moonlight.

Quinn rolled slightly to assist Cate in her efforts, feeling the butterflies in her stomach flutter as she felt the zipper coming all the way down.

Cate eased the thin cotton straps off of Quinn's shoulders then unhooked her bra in the front, revealing her soft breasts. She looked at the younger girl in the moonlight and took a deep breath of air before saying, "You are breathtaking, Quinn Fabray."

"I want to feel your skin next to mine," Quinn told her, reaching up to unbutton Cate's shirt. Once the shirt was opened, Cate pulled her arm out of it as Quinn tugged on the fabric. The taller girl then lifted her arms to pull her ribbed tank over her head, exposing her own bare chest.

Cate pulled Quinn tighter into her arms, kissing her again. She delicately moved to Quinn's neck and began a trail of kisses downward, stopping at the blonde's nipple. Cate licked at it which instantly made Quinn arch up into her mouth so she sucked hard which elicited a verbal response.

"You like that, huh?"

"Uhuh."

Cate moved over the top of Quinn, straddling her hips and squeezing both of Quinn's breasts, before leaning back down to suck her left nipple then the right one then the left one again, feeling Quinn's hips buck beneath her.

Quinn had obviously had intercourse before…Beth was proof of that…but the teenager had never had a sexual encounter that focused on exciting all of her senses. The pleasure she currently felt was nothing she had ever experienced before, and the heat within her was making its way deep to her core.

As Cate moved further down Quinn's torso, she pulled down more of the fabric of her sundress. The brunette moved her leg so that when Quinn lifted herself up, Cate could pull the dress the rest of the way off.

"Good thing it's a warm night," Cate smiled down at the exposed blonde.

"Yeah, good thing…," she responded, reaching to unzip Cate's black jeans, pushing the older girl over onto her back and pulling the pants off of her in one forceful gesture.

"Well hello, wild Quinn," Cate teased.

Quinn licked up the center of Cate's chest in one solid move, squeezing both of her nipples, saying in an almost guttural purr, "Hello."

As the two girls kissed again, with an added edge of urgency and intensity, Cate rolled the blonde back over, pinning her arms down on the blanket and sucking expertly on the crook of her neck.

Quinn moaned loudly, the loss of control feeling intoxicating to her.

The tall brunette moved further down Quinn's body again, her fingertips trailing down the blonde's smooth skin, over her taut stomach, and down to the curve of her hips. Cate teased at Quinn by running her finger across the cotton covering her center, feeling the collected wetness on the fabric, before running her tongue across the same path.

"You're sure you're okay with this?" Cate checked in with the teen.

"Oh yes…don't stop…please," Quinn said breathlessly, the anticipation now feeling exhilarating to her.

Cate pulled down on Quinn's underwear, the blonde kicking them off the rest of the way. The older girl lowered herself between Quinn's legs, spreading her knees wider and raising up her hips to a strategic position, dipping her long tongue deep within the young girl's folds and licking the length of Quinn's vulva.

"Oh god!" Quinn cried out, her eyes rolling in the back of her head as she grabbed at the blanket beneath her hands.

Cate wrapped her arms more tightly around Quinn's hips for better control and continued licking at her core, stopping at her clit with each pass of her tongue, circling it, flicking it, sucking it, until Quinn's hips were rotating to the same rhythm.

Cate penetrate her tongue deep inside Quinn over and over and over. Once Quinn replaced her grasp from the quilt's fabric to the top of Cate's head, pulling Cate's face deeper into her, the brunette knew Quinn wasn't going to last much longer.

"Oh…my…god," then teen said loudly.

Cate smiled as she heard loud moans escaping from Quinn, stopping her oral assault just short of pushing Quinn over the edge.

She lowered Quinn's hips to the ground so she could free one of her arms, traveling up her torso to kiss her passionately.

Quinn's senses were so heightened that even the taste of herself on Cate's lips made her woozy and breathless.

"You are so sexy…," Cate whispered in Quinn's ear. She pulled the blonde's trim body up into her left arm so she could return her attention to Quinn's breasts, sucking on each of her nipples as she pushed the middle finger of her right hand inside the young blonde.

Cate thought Quinn would come right then as she started to move inside her, hearing a combination of moans and shaky releases of air, but she didn't let up, adding her index finger, sliding both fingers in and out, sucking at Quinn's hardened nipples at the same time.

"Oh god, Cate…," Quinn confirmed, her hands returning to tangle themselves in Cate's hair, "…please don't stop."

Cate continued holding up the weight of Quinn's body with one arm, devouring her breasts, while moving faster and faster inside her with the other, rubbing consistently at her throbbing clit, until Quinn went stiff in her embrace, pulling Cate's body into hers as she quivered hard under the force of her orgasm.

Once Quinn's body stopped trembling, Cate lowered her gently to the blanket, collapsing on top of her, both of them sweating and out of breath in the warmth of the late June air.

The two of them continued to lay entangled until their breathing and pulses returned to normal.

"That…was…amazing," Quinn declared, having experienced nothing like that ever before.

Cate pulled her closer, nuzzling her face into the crook of Quinn's neck, telling her softly, "No…_you_are amazing, Quinn."

* * *

><p>"Here you go…," Brittany handed Santana a bottle of apple juice she brought from Quinn's kitchen.<p>

"Thanks," Santana said, setting it on the floor next to the couch where she was laying.

"Tan, come on…it's for drinking," Brittany said, bending over and handing it to her again.

Santana sat up on the couch and unscrewed the top to the bottle and took a couple of long sips before closing it again, asking, "Good enough?"

Brittany slid into the space behind the brunette, pulling her back into her arms, saying matter-of-factly, "Yes."

Santana rolled her eyes at the blonde and leaned forward to set the bottle on the nearby glass coffee table.

"Oh stop, don't be like that, honey…I just worry about you is all," Brittany explained.

"I know," Santana turned so that she could lay her head against Brittany's chest, pulling her blanket up over her shoulder and pushing play on the DVD remote control.

"Are you into this movie?" Brittany asked, soaking up the feeling of Santana's weight pressed against her, as she lay between the blonde's long legs.

"Not really."

"Let's just stop it then…ok?"

"Yeah, it's getting late anyway," Santana handed the blonde the remote so she could stop the DVD. "Tell me more about your camp," Santana said, wrapping her arms around Brittany's torso.

"There's not much more to tell…I'll go back next June…it should be fun."

"I want to be sure to see you win next time," Santana said sadly.

"Oh, I probably won't win twice in a row…but if I _do_…then you better be there," Brittany tried to make light of the disappointment she felt with Santana's absence, squeezing her tightly.

"I'm really sorry, Britt," Santana added with a deep sigh, "I hate that I missed your big moment."

Brittany lowered her head and kissed Santana on the cheek, "I forgive you…I'm just so glad you're back…_alive_."

Santana lay quietly in Brittany's arms for a moment before she told the blonde, "I didn't cheat on you, Britt…I want you to know that."

"I didn't want to ask…but I sort of worried what the answer would be," Brittany confessed softly.

"I would _never_ do that to you…I promise you," Santana assured her.

"I believe you…I just wasn't sure you knew what you were doing the whole time you were gone," the blonde said with hurt in her voice.

Santana sat up and turned to face Brittany, "I've made a lot of bad choices in my life…but that's not one of them."

Brittany smiled, her whole body relaxing with relief, confirming, "Good."

Santana leaned forward and kissed Brittany passionately before pulling back to say, "I never want to make you doubt me."

"I just wish you would open up more and talk to me."

"I try, babe…I do."

"But like…I didn't know anything really about your injuries…until today," Brittany said with a look of sadness, "I hate that you suffered alone."

Santana's look turned serious and she cast her gaze downward, shrugging, "What could you have done to help?"

"I don't know…helped you medicate it? Kept an eye on it for you?" Brittany was grasping for her much desired connection, "…just something…_anything_…to help you feel you're not alone."

Santana leaned her head back against Brittany's chest and broke into a sob.

Brittany pulled her tightly into her body and whispered into her ear, "You are not alone, honey…you don't have to fight this by yourself…_talk_ to me."

"He was _so_ angry…I was so scared," Santana cried into Brittany's chest.

Brittany caressed the top of her head, encouraging her, "Keep talking."

"It was my fault…I provoked him…like putting my hand in a lion's mouth and thinking he wouldn't bite me," she said through her tears, "I should have kept my mouth shut, Britt…I have such a big _fucking_ mouth."

Santana was crying so hard that Brittany could only make out about every second or third word, but she knew this moment was more for Santana than for her. She held her tightly and told her, "…keep going…what happened that night?"

"I can't…I don't want to think about it, Britt…it's too hard," she cried, her shoulders shaking.

"You need to get this out of you…if you keep it locked inside then it holds power over you forever," Brittany dug deep to find strength to push Santana through this, saying more sternly, "Tell me what happened."

"I couldn't get out from underneath him…I tried to push him off of me…he was just so heavy on top of me," Santana closed her eyes, remembering the sensation of Karofsky's full weight on top of her tiny frame, "I could barely breath."

"What did he do to you, sweetheart?" Brittany prompted.

"He ripped off my underwear…and I knew then what he was going to do."

"I know you had to be so scared at what was happening," Brittany tried to talk her through it, hoping Santana would follow.

"I couldn't stop it…I had _no_ control…none," Santana chipped away at her thoughts.

"What did he do next?"

"He…uh…he tried to push inside me…but he couldn't."

Brittany felt her stomach turn, bile rising up in the back of her throat, causing her to swallow hard so she could remain calm for Santana, "Then what did he do?"

"He got angrier…it just pissed him off more…that's when he bit me…_hard_."

Brittany remembered the deep bite on the inside of Santana's left breast, so deep her soft skin was broken under the teeth marks, leaving traces of blood. The blonde also remembered seeing that same oval mark for weeks later as it slowly faded.

"Keep going, honey…get it _ all_ out," she coaxed Santana.

Fresh, hot tears came when the Latina thought of Karofsky's final violation, the pain was still vividly in her mind. "He jammed his fist inside me, Britt…not even slowly…," the brunette choked out, weeping unlike Brittany had ever witnessed from Santana, "…he did it over…and over…and over…screaming into my face how much he hated me…how he hated everyone…it felt like it went on _forever_…like he was literally going to rip me in half."

Brittany couldn't hold back her tears any longer. She tightened her hold on Santana's shattered body and spirit with her long arms and the strength in her knees, squeezing the Latina with all the love she could transfer onto her, sobbing with her.

"I _hate_him so much for what he did to me," Santana told Brittany.

"I know you do, honey…I hate him too."

* * *

><p>Quinn giggled uncontrollably as Cate nibbled at the back of her neck while she fumbled with trying to stick her house key into the front door.<p>

"Stop, I can't get the door opened," she laughed and playfully batted at the tall brunette behind her.

"Here…," Cate said, holding up her phone so the light of the screen would assist.

Quinn pushed the key into the lock and turned the knob, opening the door so they could both step in. Cate removed her hands from Quinn's waist long enough to push the door closed behind her, locking it.

The young blonde paused at the foot of the stairs, seeing the lamp was on and Brittany and Santana were cuddled on the couch.

"Hey, girls…," Quinn called to them, "…everything okay?"

Brittany looked up to reply, "Yeah…how was your date?"

Quinn pulled Cate by the hand as she walked into the living room to speak to her best friends, responding with a huge grin, "Still ongoing."

"Ohhh…?" Santana smiled back teasing at Quinn, comfortably settled in Brittany's arms on the couch.

"Hi, Cate," Brittany smiled sheepishly.

"Hi…," Cate smirked back at them, stepping up behind Quinn and wrapping her arms around her waist, asking the Latina, "How are you feeling?"

Santana raised her eyebrows toward her former head Cheerio, her mind still blown at this newest development. "I'm feeling somewhat better actually…," the Latina looked up at Brittany, "…I think I've made some real progress tonight."

Brittany smiled back at her girlfriend, feeling as intimately close to her as she ever had before, "…yep…I think we've found the exit to the tunnel."

"That's awesome," Cate encouraged them.

"Cate…thank you," Santana told the older girl.

"For what…?"

"For finding me…for _saving_ me," the younger brunette told her.

"Finding you was pure luck…but I know you're going to end up saving _yourself_…so no need to thank me, ok?"

Santana smile up at her, feeling a bit more strength returning to her soul, "Okay."

Quinn squeezed Cate's hands that were locked around the front of her waist. "Santana…I owe you an apology," Quinn added, "I love you…I should never have kicked you when you needed me most."

The Latina let out a long sigh, releasing some of her stored hurt over Quinn's verbal assault, as well-intended as Santana knew it was, "It's okay, Q…I love you too…and I know I'm not the easiest person in the world to deal with…even on a good day."

Brittany chuckled, "…that's an understatement."

Santana elbowed her girlfriend in the abdomen, smiling, "…shush."

All of the girls shared in the laugh, releasing any remaining tension between the best friends.

"Ok then…we're going to head up to bed," Quinn announced, turning slightly.

"Yeah, we're about to head upstairs too," Brittany responded, pausing a second, "Um, Q…you have a big leaf in the back of your hair."

"Huh?" Quinn reached up to pat the back of her head.

"Oh, yeah…here, let me get it out," Cate stopped and pulled the green leaf from the blonde strands of Quinn's hair.

"Thank you," Quinn said, taking the leaf from Cate's hand and kissing her lightly on the lips then moving toward the stairs, "Goodnight, ladies…see you in the morning."

Brittany and Santana waved back at the two as they ascended the stairs to the second floor.

As soon as the other girls were out of sight, Brittany looked down at the Latina in her arms and stated, "Oh my god…they _totally_ had sex tonight."

Santana lowered her head onto Brittany's chest again, breathing in her unique scent that brought her so much comfort, responding, "Yep…they _so _totally did."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note<strong>: The song Cate sang to Quinn is _Your Song_ by the great Elton John, but in my head I was hearing something more like an acoustic version of the Ellie Goulding version. Check that one out, because it's really pretty.

I hope this chapter gave you guys some much-desired detail on Santana's health and some details of the rape. It's a fine line I have to walk with giving you all a detailed account vs. just hinting at what happened and letting your minds fill in the gaps. I think our minds crave the details, but we don't truly want to read harsh facts that happened to our favorite characters. Oh well…fingers crossed that I achieved that respectful balance.

Last but not least, the top five names for Brittany's little sister are (in no particular order):

**Hannah**

**Courtney**

**Macy**

**Grace**

**Emily**

Apparently, Emily is the name the Glee writers finally chose, but I don't feel bound by it. Please vote for your favorite off this list in a review or private message then stay tuned for the next chapter update to see which name won! Isn't this fun? LOL Ok, I'm a dork. Don't disappoint me though – be sure to vote. Please! :) And thank you all so much for your kind words and encouragement on my story so far. Let me know what you think of this chapter. Every review helps me with motivation and with story development. I appreciate each one of you awesome readers! Kim


	20. Chapter 20

**Author's note:**I do apologize for the delay in updating, but I thank you for your patience during the holiday season. I had a great holiday and a lovely break from writing (except for my Christmas fic I wrote that y'all should check out if you get an extra moment…you never know, perhaps that will expand into the next continued story after HSHM is completed). I hope each of you had wonderful celebrations with your friends and families. Happy New Year to each of you! KB

* * *

><p><strong>Her Smile Heals Me (chapter 20)<strong>

_**Have you ever fed a lover with just your hands?**_

_**Closed your eyes and trusted, just trusted.**_

_**Have you ever thrown a fist full of glitter in the air?**_

_**Have you ever looked fear in the face,**_

_**And said, I just don't care?**_

Quinn led Cate by the hand through her opened bedroom door, closing it shut as soon as they were inside and backing up against it, pulling the older girl with her and kissing her deeply.

Without saying a word, Quinn unbuttoned Cate's jeans, sliding her hands around the back of them and down inside the denim to squeeze both of Cate's butt cheeks and pulling her further into her.

"I want you so much right now," Quinn said in a deep, breathy voice.

Everything about this night had set Quinn's inner fire ablaze. Cate had helped her find a type of pleasure she had never felt before and certainly never shared with anyone before tonight. Quinn found the vulnerability she experienced at the hands of Cate to be exhilarating, and now, she couldn't get enough of it.

"Make me cum again, Cate…_please_."

Cate pulled away from their deep, wet kiss…sucking on Quinn's tongue until it tugged away from her mouth from the increased distance…and smiled down at the young blonde in her arms.

The taller girl lowered herself down the length of Quinn's perfectly shaped body, her hands trailing down the cotton of Quinn's sundress, until she was kneeling before the teen.

Cate reached under the fabric and pulled down Quinn's cotton panties, smiling back up at her when she felt that they were already soaked with Quinn's wetness, still smelling like sex from earlier in the night.

The blonde stepped out of the underwear once she felt it around her ankles, still fully clothed in her dress and her wedge heels.

Without saying a word, Cate lifted Quinn's left leg over her right shoulder, disappearing from Quinn's sight under the skirt of her dress.

The next thing Quinn felt was Cate's tongue as she licked the length of Quinn's vulva, instantly making her knees so nimble she thought she might drop. The young blonde reached out with both hands to quickly brace herself on Cate's shoulders.

"Oh god," Quinn said even more breathy than she sounded before.

She could feel Cate's grasp on her hips tighten, pulling her further into her oral manipulations. All Quinn could do was hold onto her lover below her with one hand and grip the door frame behind her to steady her stance.

Sparks of electricity were firing up through Quinn's abdomen, making her knees even weaker, as Cate focused her attention on the teen's throbbing clit. The warmth of Cate's mouth mixed with the warmth from Quinn's center was enough to make her defenseless, but when the blonde felt Cate's tongue penetrate her inner core, every thought from her mind evaporated instantly.

"Oh fuck," Quinn said, barely above a whisper.

Quinn did a quick intake of air followed by a loud moan as she squeezed Cate's shoulder harder, digging in her fingernails.

Cate couldn't say anything, but she internally applauded herself with a smile and picked up her pace, licking and sucking and penetrating until Quinn's moans became quicker and higher-pitched.

The brunette wrapped her arms fully around Quinn's backside, helping her balance and offsetting some of her weight, anticipating her inability to hold herself up much longer, just as the intensity of her orgasm shook her entire being. The blonde rested her head back against the doorframe as the rest of her body went rigid in full ecstasy, her body quivering from deep within her.

"Ohhhhhhhh," was all Quinn was able to verbalize until her body stilled.

Cate pulled her head out from under Quinn's skirt, enjoying a burst of much-needed oxygen, and lowered the blonde down to the floor with her, Quinn molding into Cate's embrace like soft clay and resting her head on her shoulder as they kneeled together on Quinn's bedroom floor.

_**It's only half past the point of no return,**_

_**The tip of the iceberg, the sun before the burn.**_

_**The thunder before the lightning, the breath before the phrase,**_

_**Have you ever felt this way?**_

Santana closed the guest room door quietly, seeing in the moonlight streaming from the window that Brittany was tucked under the covers. Assuming she was already asleep, she stopped at the foot of the bed and took off her black sweatpants, leaving on just her tank top and cotton panties. She then climbed into bed next to her girlfriend, spooning up behind her long, muscular frame and wrapping her left arm underneath Brittany's arm.

Brittany squeezed Santana's hand in hers, pulling her arm up and kissing her fingers that were intertwined with her own.

"I thought you were asleep?" Santana whispered.

Brittany turned toward her slightly, replying, "Not yet…I was just thinking."

"About…?"

"You."

"What about me?" Santana was curious.

"How proud I am of you…how hard you pushed yourself tonight."

"I want to be stronger, Britt…I want my life back."

"I'm glad…especially glad you trusted me."

"I've always trusted you…it's _me_ I don't trust," Santana confessed.

"Hey…we're in this together…_forever_…okay?"

"I love you so much," the Latina confirmed, squeezing Brittany firmly.

"I know," Brittany responded light-heartedly, with a proud edge to her voice.

"You do, huh?" Santana laughed, lightly tickling Brittany around her mid-section.

"Uhuh…," Brittany giggled as her body involuntarily reacted to being tickled, only making Santana continue. "Stop…please!"

"What are you going to do to make me?" Santana playfully challenged, tickling her even harder, causing Brittany's limbs to wildly react.

"Wait…nooo…Tan, stop!" Brittany laughed uncontrollably before pulling her hands to her face, "No, seriously…stop…oww!"

"Oh god, did I hurt you?" Santana said, concerned, leaning over Brittany.

"Ha! No…but you stopped," Brittany claimed victory as she grabbed Santana and rolled her over onto her back, straddling her hips.

"Ok, no fair…," Santana laughed at the blonde above her as she started tickling her back, causing Santana to now involuntarily flail, "…you play dirty, Brittany Pierce!"

"That's right!" Brittany leaned down and kissed Santana passionately, breaking to say, "I learned from the best."

"You _are_ the best, babe…," Santana reached up and pulled Brittany back down to meet her mouth.

_**Have you ever hated yourself for staring at the phone?**_

_**Your whole life waiting on the ring to prove you're not alone.**_

_**Have you ever been touched so gently you had to cry?**_

_**Have you ever invited a stranger to come inside?**_

Quinn shut the door behind her as she stepped from the interior bathroom into her bedroom, smiling widely when she saw Cate sitting on her bed, dressed only in her boxer briefs and tank top, leaning back against the headboard with her feet crossed at the ankles, waiting patiently.

"Did I keep you waiting too long?" Quinn asked, having washed the make-up from her beautiful face and changed into a short, light-blue gown, as she walked toward the bed and reached to turn out the bedside lamp.

"Not at all…," Cate replied, making room for Quinn who crawled into the bed next to her.

The young blonde settled into the older girl's arms, pulling her down into a long kiss, smelling her own scent lingering on Cate's face even though Quinn knew she had taken a moment to wash up.

"Thank you again for tonight…," Quinn told her, "…it's the most romantic thing anybody has ever done for me."

"You don't have to thank me, Quinn…," Cate assured her, kissing her softly down her neck, "…I would give you _all_ the stars if I could."

"Cate?"

"Hmm?"

"I think I might be in love with you," Quinn surmised innocently.

Cate chuckled at the slight awkwardness of Quinn's uncertainty, "Why do you say it that way?"

"I don't know…," Quinn chuckled too, raising up her chin as Cate kissed the front of her neck around to the other side then back up behind her ear, "…because I suppose I've never truly experienced love…romantic love anyway…I'm not sure I'd recognize it."

"You never felt love for any of the boys you've dated?"

"No…I don't think I have…," Quinn contemplated internally how she felt being with Finn or Puck or Sam, "…this feels different."

"How so?" Cate asked, continuing to gently kiss and fondle the blonde teen as they spoke.

"Because…every moment I'm with you makes me happy…and when I'm not with you…even thoughts of you make me happy."

"I'm glad," Cate smiled, kissing her on her lips, "I feel the same way about you."

"So…isn't that love?"

Cate smiled again at her, unsure of how to respond. Her head told her not to rush anything…and certainly not to confuse hormones with love…but her heart was _completely_ in love with the young girl in her arms.

There was a moment of silence that hung in the air before Quinn added softly, "...being this happy though…it _scares_ me too."

_Ahh, there it is_, Cate thought. She took a deep breath, not sure she wanted to know Quinn's answer, but asked anyway, "Is it because you're afraid that this means you're gay?"

"Actually, no…I don't even really care about that part," Quinn said confidently, surprising herself that she felt that way.

The brunette was confused, searching for clarity, "Well…then what's scary about letting yourself be happy?"

"I guess, because…it's so easily lost."

_**It's only half past the point of oblivion.**_

_**The hourglass on the table, the walk before the run,**_

_**The breath before the kiss and the fear before the flames**_

_**Have you ever felt this way?**_

Santana pulled Brittany's t-shirt over her head, tossing it over the side of the bed to land with all their other articles of clothing and immediately returning her hands to the blonde's broad shoulders, running her fingertips down along Brittany's side to rest on her muscular backside, gripping firmly at both cheeks.

"I've missed being with you…_sooo_ much," Santana whispered between their kisses as Brittany lay on top of her.

"You have no idea how bad I want you right now," Brittany said breathlessly, her ache threatening her senses.

Santana kissed her hard again as she squeezed Brittany's butt, forcing the blonde's weight further into her, enjoying the feeling of their breasts pressing tightly together, their nipples rubbing together.

Brittany ran her hands through the Latina's dark locks, ending up with them on each side of her face, caressing her jawline as she pushed her tongue deeper into Santana's mouth.

The blonde pushed up to straddle Santana's hips without breaking their contact until the last possible moment, feeling the Latina tug on her lower lip with her teeth.

Brittany let out a deep laugh, telling Santana, "Naughty girl."

The brunette smiled a wicked smirk and arched her eyebrows, agreeing, "Uhuh." Her hands instantly went to Brittany's soft breasts, rolling the blonde's nipples between her thumbs and index fingers, feeling them harden and the skin around them pucker.

Brittany mimicked the sensation with her hands on Santana's ample chest, causing her hips to buck underneath Brittany's weight.

The blonde leaned all the way back down and whispered into Santana's right ear, "I'm going to make you cum…_hard_."

"Oh Britt…I wish I could, babe…but I can't tonight," Santana reminded her sadly.

"Oh right…the medicine," Brittany realized, giving her an unintended pout.

Santana sat up to hug Brittany, "Don't be disappointed, love…another night…soon. Tonight…I have plans for _you_."

Santana maneuvered out from under her, pushing Brittany down onto the mattress to lie on her stomach. The Latina spread Brittany's long legs, kneeling between them and running her finger the length of Brittany's vulva, finding her already very wet.

She leaned over the blonde and held her finger to Brittany's lips. "Is this what I do to you?" she asked in her sexiest voice.

"Yes," Brittany answered with building desperation, licking Santana's index finger, tasting her own arousal, "You make me so wet, hon."

"You _need _to cum…badly…don't you, babe?" Santana purred.

"Yes…_please_."

Santana didn't want to tease Brittany too much because she could sense her love needed intense release more than prolonged pleasure, and the Latina wasn't entirely sure how long her stamina would last under her current physical circumstances, so she lifted Brittany's hips upward, raising her butt off the mattress to where she was leaned forward on her forearms. She then stroked Brittany's wet folds, slipping her middle finger inside them and making her way immediately to Brittany's throbbing clit where she began to rub.

The brunette rubbed the side of the enlarged nub then down and back up again just the way she knew Brittany enjoyed it most. She repeated that pattern several times, enjoying the moans the blonde was making as she rotated her hips underneath Santana's manipulation.

"Ohhh yesssss…just like thaaaaat," Brittany encouraged.

Santana kept up a steady stroke, changing from her middle finger to the pad of her thumb in order to push a finger inside Brittany who paused her movement a moment to enjoy the sensation of Santana being inside her.

The Latina wrapped her right arm around the front of Brittany's waist, molding herself into the blonde's backside, adding another finger from her left hand as Brittany's hips rocked back and forth. After another minute or two, feeling that Brittany was incredibly wet, she added a third and began to pump deep inside her.

"Oh goooodddd…YES…fuck me, baby," Brittany cried out.

The familiar lovers quickly found a comfortable rhythm, Brittany rotating her hips vigorously, moving her own hand down to rub her clit to assist Santana so she could focus on that perfect spot inside her.

Santana knew the sounds Brittany was making meant she was right at the edge, ready to push herself over.

"Cum for me, babe," Santana encouraged, pressing her face against the curve of Brittany's spine, holding onto her and pumping her left hand in and out to bring her the most pleasure.

"I'm soooooo close…don't stop…please," Brittany begged, "Ohhhhhh gooooddddddd, Santannnaaa."

The blonde screamed out as she reached that perfect moment of extreme ecstasy, her body going taut in Santana's arms, enjoying every second of her orgasm as it passed through her entire body.

Brittany collapsed to the mattress below, her hand still between her legs and Santana's hand still inside her, feeling the weight of her lover relax on top of her.

The girls were at ultimate peace just laying together, breathing.

_**There you are, sitting in the garden**_

_**Clutching my coffee, calling me sugar**_

_**You called me sugar.**_

Quinn rolled Cate over onto her back, holding down her arms against the pillows under her. "I want to make you feel the way you made me feel tonight," she told the older girl, straddling her narrow hips.

"I would let you do anything you want," Cate said breathlessly, turned on by Quinn's assertiveness.

"I want this off then," Quinn told her, pulling on the fabric of Cate's tank. The brunette sat up slightly and allowed Quinn to pull the white tank over her head. The younger girl bent down to run her fingernails across Cate's ribs and down her firm abdomen, causing the brunette to react with an arch of her body and a slight giggle.

"Did that tickle?" Quinn's lips curled into a naughty grin.

Cate reached up and pulled her down into a passionate kiss, their tongues moving around each other's and in and out of their mouths.

Quinn sat back up and ran her hands over Cate's breasts. She leaned back down again and licked at each of her nipples, feeling them harden under her tongue, smiling inwardly at how much she was enjoying this as she heard Cate moan softly under her touch.

After a few minutes of kissing and fondling, Quinn sat back up and lifted her own gown over her head, leaning back to press her chest tightly against Cate's, savoring the sensation of their nipples touching, finding it very erotic.

Cate rolled so that Quinn was on her back on the bed, continuing to kiss her.

"Wait, I was supposed to be calling the shots…," Quinn joked, sounding out of breath.

"Oh sorry…habit…," Cate laughed, "…you're in charge."

"Then take these off!" Quinn tugged on Cate's black boxer briefs.

"Yes ma'am," she smiled as she removed them and tossed them over the side of the bed then she pulled on the fabric of Quinn's lacy underwear.

"Hey…I didn't say mine," Quinn slapped away Cate's hand, enjoying her role.

"Okay," Cate stopped.

"Well…actually…I want these off too," the teen amended her instructions, deciding that made sense.

"Okay," Cate smiled and pulled at them again until the panties were completely removed, dropping them over the side too.

"I'm totally ruining this, aren't I?" Quinn asked with a naïve pout.

Cate winked at her in the bright moonlight, "I think you're adorably sexy."

Quinn sat up and pushed Cate back down under her, straddling her again. "Okay, now what should I do?"

"What do you want to do?" Cate turned it back around on her. She could feel the moisture between Quinn's legs as she sat astride the older girl's pelvic bone.

"I want to taste you, Cate…," Quinn told her bluntly, her nerves flaring within her as quickly as the words left her mouth.

"You're sure about this?"

"I'm kinda nervous, can you tell?" Quinn confessed, biting at her lower lip and looking down at the girl beneath her.

"Yes…," Cate sat up and wrapped her arms tightly around Quinn, whispering in her ear, "You don't have to prove anything…you know that, right?"

Quinn suddenly felt emotionally overwhelmed, feeling the full effect of her vulnerability she'd tapped into this night. She lowered her head onto Cate's strong shoulder as her tears started to flow, hugging her closely for several minutes.

"It's ok, sweetheart…it's a lot to process," Cate assured her, rocking her gently.

Quinn pulled back, wiping at her green eyes, "I love you, Cate…I just do…I'm not sure how or why or when…but I do."

"I love you too," the brunette confirmed without any hesitation.

_**Have you ever wished for an endless night?**_

_**Lassoed the moon and the stars and pulled that rope tight.**_

_**Have you ever held your breath and asked yourself,**_

_**Will it ever get better than tonight? **_

_**Tonight…**_

* * *

><p><strong>Saturday, June 18, 2011<strong>

**9:38 p.m.**

Jordan took a long swig of beer out of the clear, Corona bottle in her hand, setting it on a nearby bar table, then placed the remaining part of her cigarette between her pierced lips, freeing her hands so she could position her pool cue.

"Six ball in the corner pocket…," she mumbled, barely discernable around the butt of the cigarette hanging, smoke escaping the corners of her mouth as she spoke.

The green and white ball popped off the back of the cue ball and went directly into the corner pocket as intended.

"Look out, Robyn…she's about to clean the table," a young blonde girl warned from a barstool.

"Yeah, yeah…I don't even know why I try to play her anymore," Robyn said to the group of girls who were gathered to the side of the pool table, rolling her eyes, "I should just give you my twenty bucks, Jordan…then sit back and enjoy my beer."

"Four in the front pocket…Fifteen in the side," Jordan announced without looking up.

"Oooo…you're done now, Rob!" the girls teased at the short, stocky girl.

Both balls went in their respective pockets fast and smoothly, to the cheers of the watchful crowd, as Jordan crushed out the end of her cigarette and cleaned the table by sinking the Eight ball.

"Thank you," Jordan smiled a wickedly playful smile, picking up the two twenty dollar bills off the side of the pool table, "Anyone need a fresh beer before I kick the rest of your asses?"

"Yeah, grab me one," a tall girl told her, handing over a five dollar bill.

Jordan started walking toward the bar as she heard Alanis Morissette's voice start playing from a jukebox in the far corner of the bar:

_I'm broke but I'm happy_

_I'm poor but I'm kind_

_I'm short but I'm healthy, yeah_

_I'm high but I'm grounded_

_I'm sane but I'm overwhelmed_

_I'm lost but I'm hopeful, baby…_

_What it all comes down to_

_Is that everything's gonna be fine fine fine_

'_cause I've got one hand in my pocket_

_And the other one is giving a high five._

_I feel drunk but I'm sober_

_I'm young and I'm underpaid_

_I'm tired but I'm working, yeah_

_I care but I'm restless_

_I'm here but I'm really gone_

_I'm wrong and I'm sorry, baby…_

_What it all comes down to_

_Is that everything's gonna be quite alright_

'_cause I've got one hand in my pocket_

_And the other one is flicking a cigarette…_

Jordan walked up to the counter of the long bar, leaning across it near a young, dark-haired girl who was sitting quietly, staring downward, taking a last drag off the very end of a cigarette before crushing it out in the very full, plastic ashtray in front of her.

"Two Coronas," Jordan told the very hot, female bartender with a smile then looked toward the girl to her left, "You smoke more than I do."

The brunette shrugged and pulled another Marlboro Light from a white box, lighting it with a lighter that she set back down on the wood of the bar, blowing out the smoke slowly.

"You sure have been quiet tonight, Santana," Jordan asked her, concern in her voice, "What thought's going on in that pretty head of yours?"

"That the words of this song are complete shit," the Latina emptied the last of the beer in the bottle in front of her.

"How can you say that about Alanis? She's a poet," Jordan defended, motioning to the bartender to give Santana another beer while throwing another five dollar bill on top of the other two and pausing to listen to the end of the song.

_I'm free but I'm focused_

_I'm green but I'm wise_

_I'm hard but I'm friendly, baby_

_I'm sad but I'm laughing_

_I'm brave but I'm chickenshit_

_I'm sick but I'm pretty, baby…_

_And what it all boils down to _

_Is that nobody's really got it figured out just yet_

'_Cause I've got one hand in my pocket_

_And the other one is playing the piano…_

_And what it all comes down to, my friends_

_Is that everything's just fine fine fine_

'_Cause I've got one hand in my pocket_

_And the other one is hailing a taxi cab._

"See, kid…everything's just fine fine fine," Jordan draped her arm around Santana's shoulders, singing part of the lyrics.

"Yeah right…like I said, complete fucking shit," she responded harshly, crushing out the butt of the latest cigarette.

"You gotta look at the bright side, kid…at least you're not still at some sleazy motel on the edge of town," Jordan reminded, having picked her up the day before when the young brunette called.

"Like this is any better?" Santana said sarcastically, looking over her shoulder at the run-down, lesbian bar to which Jordan and her friends took her with them.

"Hey, this place ain't sleazy…it has subtle charm…," Jordan joked with a grin, "…like me."

"I only called _you_ because I had nowhere else to go…and I didn't want to waste anymore of my money…," Santana told her bitterly, adding somberly, "…I'm saving it…for something very important."

"Oh yeah?" Jordan took a swig of her beer, genuinely curious, "What are you saving up for?"

"Something special…for my girlfriend…," Santana felt an overwhelming sadness, adding, "…_if_ she's still my girlfriend."

"Girlfriends are useless, if you ask me…save your money, kid!" Jordan took another long swallow of beer, motioning again to the bartender for another one, throwing another bill on the stack in payment, "Take a nice trip or something…backpack through Europe…that's what I'd do."

"That's _your_ opinion," Santana told her, lighting another cigarette.

"Yeah, well…like they say, opinions are like assholes…everybody's got one," Jordan laughed at her own joke as Santana rolled her eyes.

"Maybe you're the poet, Jordan," the Latina said mockingly, her head feeling quite buzzed from the amount of beer she'd consumed in the last twenty-four hours.

"Maybe I am, kid…maybe I am," Jordan continued to laugh and picked up both bottles of Corona, turning and walking away.

* * *

><p><strong>Wednesday, June 29, 2011<strong>

**9:22 am**

Brittany rolled over and stretched her long arms, her eyes fluttering open in the bright sunlight that streamed through the shear curtain in Quinn's guest room. She looked over to Santana's side of the bed, smiling at the Latina's naked form sleeping next to her, causing the blonde to reflect back on their night together as a deep heat instantly spread within her.

Brittany moved closer to Santana, snuggling up behind her and kissing her tenderly on her shoulder then on the exposed part of her neck where her dark hair had fallen aside, still smelling sex on her tanned skin.

As Santana started rousing from her sleep, feeling the warmth of Brittany's body next to her, she looked back over her right shoulder and said, "Good morning."

The blonde kissed her again on her shoulder, replying, "Good morning."

Santana rolled over to face Brittany, their heads within inches of each other on the same pillow, and smiled, running the back of her hand gently down Brittany's jawline and telling her, "I love waking up next to you."

The two of them lay quietly, caressing each other's exposed skin, giving each other soft, sweet kisses, looking deep into each other's eyes, so many feelings passing unspoken between them.

"You are so beautiful," Santana told Brittany, her brown eyes glossing over with emotion, as she outlined the blonde's pink lips with her index finger, "You are so much a part of me that I don't even remember me without you."

Brittany smiled a smile that only she could make…a smile that Santana had been the recipient of hundreds of times, yet she couldn't exactly describe it or what it did to her insides…a smile that somehow penetrated every fiber of her being, lifting her up, completing her…that perfect missing puzzle piece deep within her soul.

"What's _greater _ than love?" Santana asked introspectively.

"Why?" Brittany replied with a small chuckle as she reached up and wiped away a tear that trailed down Santana's cheek.

"Cause whatever it is…_that's_ what I feel for you…," the Latina replied.

Brittany pulled Santana closer, kissing her lovingly until they heard one of their phones buzzing against the wood of the nightstand. Santana broke the kiss, laughing slightly at the untimely interruption, reaching behind her to pick up Brittany's phone and hand it to her.

"Home," Brittany told her.

"Answer it," Santana smiled, "You don't want to cause anymore worry."

"Hello," Brittany unlocked it and put it to her ear, expecting to hear her mom's voice.

"Hi, B…," a child's voice said with enthusiasm.

"Good morning," Brittany smiled at hearing her little sister's voice.

"Remember you promised we could go to the pool today?"

"I didn't forget," she assured the child.

"Yaaay!"

"Let me get a shower then I'll come over there, ok?"

"Is Santana going with us?" she asked.

"Why don't you ask her," Brittany smiled across at her girlfriend, handing the cell phone to Santana, telling her, "It's Emily."

"Hey, Em…what's up?"

"Santana, will you go with us to the pool? Please Please Please?" Emily begged excitedly.

"Sure," Santana winked at Brittany, listening to the littlest Pierce on the other end of the phone tell her about her new purple swimsuit and matching floaties, "Uhuh…sounds pretty…ok, squirt…see you later."

Santana hit cancel and handed the phone back to Brittany. "So much for lounging in bed," she lamented good-naturedly.

"Come on, the sun will be good for you…," Brittany encouraged, "The summer's half over…we need to start enjoying it!"

Santana slid out of bed and walked over to her pile of stuff in the corner of the guest room near the closet. She slipped on some cotton shorts and pulled a white Cheer Squad t-shirt over her head then dug through the duffle bag her mom brought to her, searching for something to wear poolside.

Brittany stepped into her underwear which she found thrown across the room, laughing, "How did these get way over here?"

"I guess I got a little _spirited_ as things heated up," Santana joked, picking up her red and white WMHS backpack and unzipping it.

"Yeah, things got heated alright," Brittany confirmed with a big grin, putting on a pair of denim cutoffs and a tank then putting her arms around Santana, trying to kiss her, but Santana suddenly pulled away.

"Wait…where's my money?" the Latina turned very serious as she walked back to the bed and dumped out the contents of her backpack, frantically fumbling through the pile, "It's gone!"

"What money?" Brittany was confused.

"The money from my mom…I had the envelope at the bottom of my bag," Santana sounded panicked, digging again inside all the zipper pockets of the backpack, "My cash…it's all gone!"

"When was the last time you saw it in there?" Brittany was attempting to remain calm since Santana was quickly becoming hysterical.

"I don't remember…I had it when I went to Jordan's house," the volume of the Latina's voice was rising with her frustration, "I need that cash, Britt…I have to have it!"

There was a knock at the guest room door. "Everything okay?"

Brittany could tell it was Quinn so she moved toward the door and opened it.

"What's wrong?" Quinn asked with Cate standing behind her.

"Somebody at that house took all my money!" Santana screamed.

Cate could see the red and white backpack in Santana's hands, knowing that's the bag she brought from Jordan's room, instantly knowing the number one suspect. "How much money was it, Santana?"

"Nearly $400," the younger brunette said, tears welling up in her dark eyes, "It's all I have."

"Honey, it's okay…," Brittany tried to soothe her, "…we'll find it."

"If you lost it in _that_ house, San…it's probably long gone now," Quinn stated bluntly, innately shivering at the memory of the rundown house.

"Quinn, that's not helping," Brittany shot her a look, ever-concerned with Santana's mental and emotional status.

"Sorry," Quinn realized her lack of empathy, turning to Cate, "Could you call Jordan and ask her?"

"Yeah…I'm going to ask Jordan, alright!" Cate said with a biting edge to her voice, having no doubt her ex-girlfriend would know exactly what happened to that money, "Don't worry, Santana…I'll make sure you get your money back."

* * *

><p><strong>10:13 am<strong>

"All Rise!" an older, uniformed bailiff said in a loud, authoritative voice.

David felt the motion of the people around him as they stood well before the fact he should stand too registered with him. He pushed out his chair and finally stood from the table at which he and his defense attorney sat inside a state courtroom at the Allen County Criminal Court House in Lima, Ohio.

"The Honorable Judge Bradford presiding," the bailiff announced as a heavy-set man in his late fifties, garbed in a long, black robe entered the courtroom from a side door next to a mounted flag of the United States and of the State of Ohio and sat with a resounding thud into a high-back, leather desk chair.

"Be seated," Judge Bradford motioned with his hand, looking down at his copy of the day's case docket as everyone in the courtroom sat back down in their seats, adding toward a young, curly-haired man who was seated near the female court reporter, "Raj, call the first case please."

The young guy, pushed up on the bridge of his wire-rimmed glasses as he stood and announced, "State of Ohio versus David Karofsky."

Assistant District Attorney Eric Cole stood immediately, holding a white sheet of paper, saying to Judge Bradford, "Your Honor…we're here this morning on Mr. Lowell's Motion to Dismiss the State's charges against Mr. Karofsky…but as my office made the Court's aware of this morning…additional evidence has surfaced and we are prepared to offer up new support."

"Mr. Lowell's office has been given a copy of this new evidence, I presume?" Judge Bradford asked.

"As a matter of fact…with all due respect to the DA's office, Your Honor…I was _just_ handed this brief a few minutes ago," Thomas Lowell pushed back his chair, next to David's, and stood to challenge ADA Cole, "I have not had time to review this with my client."

"Mr. Cole, is the DA's office prepared to give Mr. Lowell additional time to review this new evidence if the Court reschedules this Motion to Dismiss?" the judge asked.

"Judge Bradford…this motion is just another ploy by Mr. Lowell's office to derail the State's case...I think, based on the victim's blood evidence found inside Mr. Karofsky's car…this Motion to Dismiss should be denied," Eric instantly pushed for the Motion to be quashed, knowing another delay would only work against this new momentum.

The detectives' recent search of David Karofsky's car had pulled from it his Prom King crown that was covered in Santana's blood and imprinted with his finger prints. That piece of evidence along with Santana's red dress that Brittany saved from prom night, which was tattered and also covered in her blood, was breathing new life into the State's case against Karofsky.

"Your Honor," Thomas interjected, "How am I to respond to the ADA's claims if I do not even have an opportunity to discuss this information with my client…I have not even brought up our challenge of the validity of the State's search warrant that was recently served…_without _the presence of my client's parents."

"Your Honor…Mr. Karofsky's mother was present when the warrant was served, and this search was conducted in front of her," ADA Cole defended.

"Enough!" Judge Bradford banged his gavel several times to silence the growing tension and volume between the two attorneys.

David Karofsky flinched at the sound of wood hitting wood, and he turned to look over his left shoulder at his mother and father in the front row of the galley audience.

"Mr. Lowell…the Court will recess for 20 minutes while you show Mr. Karofsky the State's list of new evidence…please be prepared to present your Motion to Dismiss when we reconvene," Judge Bradford banged the gavel in his hand once more for emphasis before standing to step down from the bench.

The bailiff rose quickly, announcing his departure from the courtroom, "All Rise!"

"What is going on?" David's father immediately stepped to the wooden divider between the galley seats and the inner part of the courtroom, "You said this would be a slam dunk this morning."

"Calm down…let me look over this evidence brief with David," Thomas said, unshaken by the unanticipated turn of events.

"David…what blood would they have found?" his mother asked, a look of distress on her face.

David Karofsky looked down at the table where he still sat, hearing the shuffling motion and various conversations spreading throughout the courtroom as people vacated it out into the hallway.

"David?" Mrs. Karofsky prodded.

David looked up into the faces of his parents and his attorney then he looked back down at his hands without responding.

"Give us a few minutes," Thomas turned to the two bailiffs who were standing nearby, monitoring the movements of the charged criminal defendant. The uniformed men moved to the far side of the inner courtroom, both perfunctorily shifting their weapons belts on their hips as they walked away to provide David an opportunity to meet with his attorney.

The dumpy attorney stroked his graying goatee while looking over the typed-written sheet the ADA provided him. "David, take a look at this information…," Thomas instructed, "Help me with a rational explanation please."

David took the sheet from his attorney, his blue eyes weary from night after night of interrupted sleep, having been unable to concentrate or eat much for days now. He scanned the black, typed letters, trying to interpret the words on it that were broken down into blood type and percentages. Santana's name jumped off the page at him with the word VICTIM and the word RAPE and the word PROM. David's head was spinning with a flood of images from prom night, the same images that had seeped into almost every moment of his every day while locked inside his house.

"I did it," he said weakly in final defeat.

"What?" his father and his attorney said in unison.

"This is all true," David said, his eyes still downcast, handing the sheet of paper back to Thomas.

"David, no…," Mrs. Karofsky implored, "…you don't have to feel bullied by them to say that."

"I'm the bully, Mom…I attacked her."

"Son, think about what you are doing," Mr. Karofsky advised with a stern look.

"I am…I can't go on like this…I can't sit any longer and listen to all these horrible things that happened to Santana and pretend I didn't do them."

"David…just because you had sex with this girl…and it got a little out of hand…doesn't mean…," his attorney attempted to rationalize, but David cut him off…

"I didn't have sex with her…that's what I'm trying to tell you," David raised his voice, eliciting the attention of the bailiffs who straightened in guarded-stance immediately.

"We're okay," Thomas assured them with a wave of his hand then he turned back to quiet his agitated client, "David…what you are saying is going to change everything…as your attorney, I'm advising you to…."

"Just stop…stop, please…," David said, tears filling his eyes, adding softly, "I did it…I raped Santana."

* * *

><p><strong>3:58 pm<strong>

Cate squeezed the hand break on her bright blue motorcycle as she slowed to turn into the graveled driveway of Jordan's house, driving all the way up the long path until she was nearly to the stone steps that led up to the front door of the dilapidated structure. She parked her bike near the small, maroon truck she always traded back and forth with Jordan.

She swung her left leg over the seat to stand up, taking off her black helmet and securing it on the back of the racing bike. Her long, thin legs easily navigating each of the stone steps as she moved toward the door, running her hand through her wavy, brown hair to fluff it out from where the helmet had flattened it. She rang the doorbell twice then knocked loudly on the weathered, brown door. Turning the knob, she found it to be locked so she raised up on her toes to look in through the clear, glass panes that were set in the top portion of the door.

"I know you're in there, Jordan…open up!" she hollered, knocking loudly again before pushing the buzzer for the doorbell again, "I see the truck out here."

Finally, the door opened under the pounding knock of her balled fist.

"What do _you_ want?" Jordan asked without opening the door fully.

"I want answers!" Cate demanded, pushing hard on the wood, easily over-powering the under-weight, shorter girl.

"What the fuck, Cate?"

"I've driven around for three hours, looking for you all over two different towns…where have you been? Off scoring weed? Pills? I came by here four times," the tall brunette told her, stepping inside the large living room and looking around the familiar nooks and hiding places she knew from previously living at the house.

"I just got here…what's your problem?"

"_You're_ my problem… why didn't you answer when I called your cell?"

"Because I got nothing to say to you," Jordan walked over to the fireplace mantle and picked up a pack of cigarettes, pulling one out and lighting it, offering one to Cate out of courtesy.

"I don't smoke anymore," Cate told her flatly.

The older girl raised her eyebrows and pursed her pierce lips in a sarcastic smirk, taking a long drag off the cigarette, "Barbie won't let you?"

"You watch your mouth about Quinn…," Cate snapped immediately, "…and I quit months ago…not that you'd notice."

"What are you doing here, Catie? You don't belong here any longer," Jordan said, her hurt resonating with each word.

"Did you really think nobody would notice?"

"Notice what?" Jordan ran a hand through her jet black hair, the sun glimmering through the large front window and bouncing off the row of silver piercings in her ear.

"That you stole Santana's money," Cate accused with bitterness.

"What? I don't know what you're talking about." Jordan turned to walk toward the couch, but Cate grabbed her by the arm and spun her back around.

"You're a liar! And a thief. You know it…I know it…and now everyone else is gonna know it…where is that money?"

Jordan glared back at the younger girl then looked down at Cate's hand still wrapped tightly around the upper portion of her arm, stating coldly, "I said I don't know what the fuck you're talking about…now get your hand off of me before I kick your ass."

"Santana is a good person…it's bad enough that you nearly let her die in this…_den of filth_…," Cate retorted, motioning around her in disgust, "…then you steal the only thing she has right out from under her when she's too weak to notice."

"You're wrong."

"_You're_ pathetic."

"Get out!" Jordan screamed, stepping up into Cate's face.

"Not without that money," the attractive brunette assured her.

"I told you I don't have it!" Jordan was losing control of herself, turning to light another cigarette.

"God, Jordan…can you not have a five-minute conversation without smoking?" Cate challenged her, fanning the renewed smoke out of her face, coughing slightly, "I don't know what I ever saw in you."

"You told me you loved me," the older girl said sadly.

"That wasn't love…that was co-dependency," Cate said soberly, "You've done nothing but cause problems for yourself…and for me…and now your actions are making a young kid suffer…how did she even end up here?"

"She called ME!" Jordan was feeling the sting of Cate's accusations, "I was doing her a favor…I was _saving_ her money by giving her a free place to stay…I didn't make her pay for anything…so fuck you…I didn't take her money…maybe I _thought _about it…for like _two_ seconds…then I put it back in her bag…that's the last time I saw it."

"She shouldn't have been here, Jordan…what were you thinking?"

"I wanted you **back**, ok? I wanted you to see that I was willing to help your friend…that maybe you'd come back to me." Jordan reached up and crushed out her lit cigarette in an ashtray on the mantle.

"That will NEVER happen."

"I love you so much, Cate…I don't want to lose you…it hurts too much."

"I'm with someone else now."

"She'll never love you, Catie," Jordan laughed, "Not like I do…we have a history together…I would _die_ for you…would your precious Quinn do that? Huh?"

Cate shook her head, defeated in the fresh resurrection of their old argument, "You need to find that money…you ask everyone who passed through this house while Santana was here…you owe her that much…you owe _me_ that much."

"We were meant to be together," Jordan yelled, ignoring any other topic, becoming lost in her desperation. The shorter girl tried to put her arms around Cate's waist, trying to force her closer.

"Stop," Cate rebuked her advances.

"I have two years invested!" Jordan shouted angrily.

"I have two years _wasted_," the brunette stated, now completely detached.

"FUCK YOU!" Jordan suddenly lost all control of her emotions, slugging Cate hard in the face, "You're the LIAR! You lied about everything."

Cate grabbed at her nose which was now pouring blood, "Jordan, stop!"

"No, you've lied to me since day one, haven't you?" the older girl shouted, hitting at Cate's back and shoulders as she was bent over, "You thought you were hot shit, Cate…thinking you were some fucking ROCKSTAR…seriously? You were nothing but some overindulged wannabe guitarist drug addict going in and out of rehab!"

Cate pushed Jordan off of her with all the strength she had left in her battered arms, "FUCK YOU!"

"You know why you hate me so much now, Cate Boyd?" Jordan pushed her back so hard that Cate lost her balance as she stumbled against the arm of the couch, falling backwards to the floor, "Because you are always _one breath_ away from being just like me again."

"I will never be like you are…**ever again**, Jordan…that's a fact I'm _very_ proud of."

Jordan leaned over Cate as she tried to sit back up, spitting out at her, "You will NEVER be good enough for your precious Quinn."

Cate grabbed the older girl by the upper thighs and pushed her down to the floor with her, "Don't you ever talk about her again…don't you even say her name…you miserable wretch!"

The two girls rolled around on top of each other, hitting and clawing in a tangled heap, until Jordan elbowed Cate hard in the chest, knocking the breath out of her.

As Cate clutched at her chest, wheezing, blood dripping from her reinjured nose and the brow above her right eye, Jordan stood back up and kicked her hard in the abdomen.

"I hate you, Cate Boyd…you strung me along and you know it…," Jordan screamed out at her, kicking her again and again until the younger brunette was coughing up blood, wrapping her long arms around herself as she lay in a fetal position.

The room was getting fuzzy and dark around Cate. She blacked out as she felt Jordan kick her once more while shouting, "I hate you!"

* * *

><p><strong>6:37 pm<strong>

"Oww," Brittany said as Santana applied aloe to the back of her neck and shoulders.

"Where'd you get so burnt, Britt?" Rachel asked her, sitting on the floor of her bedroom, typing on her laptop.

"We took Emily to the pool today," Brittany responded, holding her long, blond hair to the side while Santana rubbed in the cooling lotion to mute the intensity of her burning skin, "I thought we'd never get her out of the water."

"I tried to get you to reapply," Santana said sweetly, bending slightly to kiss Brittany gently on her red back.

"It didn't feel like I was burning at the time," Brittany defended with a half-smile.

"Your people are from Minnesota, Britt…your skin was never meant to see the heat of summer," Quinn joked with a hearty laugh.

Brittany playfully swatted at Quinn who sat on the floor with the other three girls.

"So did you guys hear that Mercedes and Sam hooked up recently?" Rachel asked, closing the top of her computer and setting it aside.

"Who told you that?" Santana asked. The Latina had settled back against the footboard of Rachel's bed, pulling Brittany with her, cuddling her gently, being careful not to put any pressure on her inflamed upper back.

"Well, Kurt mentioned that Mercedes has been dating someone, but she's been quite tight-lipped about it all…but Finn and I stopped by The Bean last week…and guess who was there, sitting very close together…none other than Mercedes and Sam," Rachel told the girls with her usual dramatic flair.

"Good for Mercedes!" Santana applauded, "Getting her some Sammy Evans."

"That doesn't upset you, does it Quinn?" Rachel grimaced, suddenly remembering Quinn's romantic connection to Sam.

Quinn rolled her eyes and snorted out a laugh, "Not at all…I'm happy for Mercedes…besides…my attention is elsewhere."

"Speaking of…where is Cate tonight?" Santana asked, pulling Brittany's hair up in a pony-tail as she sat behind her.

"I'm not sure actually…she said she had something important to take care of today, but I haven't heard from her all afternoon," Quinn explained.

"Call her and tell her to come watch the movie with us," Rachel offered.

"I would but she's not answering her phone," the former head-Cheerio stated with a look of concern on her pretty face.

"Don't worry, Quinn…maybe it died while she was out and about," Brittany offered thoughtfully.

"Yeah, maybe…she was on her bike…so it's possible," Quinn pondered, shaking off a feeling of something being wrong.

"So Q…since you talked to your mom about Cate…are you going to tell your dad?" Brittany asked her.

"Why would I?" Quinn said with a scowl, "I'd have to care what he thinks about it first, right?"

Rachel gave a sad smile to Brittany and Santana as Quinn looked down at the cell phone in her hand, checking her texts again, disappointed she didn't have a response yet from Cate.

"What about _your _dad, San?" Quinn asked cautiously, looking back up at her best friend.

"What about him?" she asked blankly.

"Have you talked to him?" Rachel inquired.

"No."

"Did your mom say anything to you about moving home?" Brittany asked Santana, rubbing her girlfriend's knee that was pressed snuggly around her hip.

"Not yet…why? Do you think she will?" Santana sounded unsure.

Brittany shrugged.

"Just move back here, Santana…we miss you," Rachel smiled sweetly.

"Well, that's what I'd rather…but I should double check with the dads first…I don't want to be a burden," Santana replied.

"You're no burden…in fact, I don't want to spoil the surprise, but…," Rachel pulled herself to her knees, explaining with excited hand gestures, "my dads were going to talk to you tonight about adoption."

"Adoption? Adopting who?" Santana looked as confused as Brittany and Quinn did.

Rachel pointed back at the Latina.

"Adopting me?" Santana asked.

Brittany adjusted her posture to form a complete circle with the other girls, sitting cross-legged, facing Santana, while Rachel nodded giddily.

"So like…I would be a Berry?" the taller brunette tried to clarify.

"Yes…exciting, huh?" Rachel was beside herself with enthusiasm, "Will you do it?"

Santana looked at Brittany then over at Quinn then looked down, thinking over the unanticipated proposal.

"Adoption is a really huge leap, don't you think Rachel?" Quinn asked, having dealt with all the emotions from a parent's standpoint.

"But then you wouldn't have to worry anymore about your father's reaction to you being gay and to…your…_other_…issues," Rachel added delicately, "…right?"

Brittany held her tongue, wanting Santana to come to her own conclusion.

"Rach…I'm honored that you guys would want me to be part of your family…really I am…I mean, I already feel like I am…in so many ways…," Santana explained, the concept still being worked out in her mind, "…but I don't want to lose my identity…you know what I mean? I'm still fighting so hard to get it back…to get _me_ back…that just feels like too much change right now."

Brittany took Santana's hands into hers, smiling at her encouragingly. She was so proud of how far the Latina had come in the last couple of days.

"Yes, I can understand," Rachel said sadly.

"I love you guys, don't think I don't, ok?" Santana wanted to confirm, "I just don't want to hurt my mom like that…she's trying so hard."

Quinn rubbed Santana's shoulder in support.

"I do still want to live here though…I'd miss you too much if I weren't here every day to torture you," Santana leaned over and put her arms around Rachel, squeezing her tightly.

"I'd really like that," Rachel smiled broadly.

There was a knock on Rachel's bedroom door which had been ajar the entire time, and Daniel pushed on it to open it further, "Girls…is it okay to come in?"

"Hi, Dad," Rachel assured him, "We were just talking about you."

"Yes, I confess…I overheard," Daniel told them.

"I'm really sorry, Daniel…it was such a sweet offer…but…," Santana trailed off.

Daniel put up his hands to silence her fears, "No need to explain, sweetheart…she's your mom…she will always be your mom…and Trey and I completely understand that inherent devotion."

"Thank you for understanding," Santana said warmly.

"I think we had a question for you too though…," Rachel looked over at Santana who looked around at the loving faces who encircled her.

"Would it be alright to move back in, Daniel?" Santana asked hesitantly.

"Absolutely!"

Santana smiled at everyone, feeling like she was making the right choice to put herself in a place where she felt most at ease everyday…where she never had to worry about being gay or being affectionate with Brittany…where she truly felt most at home.

"But not just for the rest of the summer…can I live here through senior year?" she asked him, "I can get a job…and pay rent…maybe Burt would let me come back to the shop."

"You can live here as long as you want, Santana," Daniel guaranteed her, "But there is no way you're paying rent…you're our daughter, whether on paper or not…so this is your house and your room is _your_ room, ok?"

Santana stood and walked over to the balding, Jewish man who was only slightly taller than she was and who looked nothing like her, and she enveloped him in a tight hug, "Thank you so much…I love you."

"I love you too, sweetheart…and I'm so glad you are doing better," he pulled back to put both hands on each side of her beautiful, Hispanic face, telling her, "Come to me when you want to talk about anything…or you need anything…please don't let it get so bad again…promise me?"

"I promise."

"I'm going to be checking on you…just like a father," he warned her with a wink.

"I hope so," she gratefully accepted her new circumstances. She wasn't sure what to expect from an interested father. The one she had been born to had such high expectations for her and her activities but offered little encouragement or affection back to her.

"So…are we ordering the pizzas now…was going to be my question?" Daniel asked cheerfully, looking down at the other girls.

"Yes! I'm starving!" Brittany volunteered with eagerness.

"Decide what you all want then come downstairs and we'll order," Daniel suggested, turning to leave the room.

"I want cheese with whole wheat crust," Rachel offered then, upon seeing the grimaces from the other girls, added, "please?"

"Yuck, Rach…you're forgetting the whole point of pizza," Brittany teased at her, the rest of the group laughing in response except for Quinn who looked down at the buzzing phone in her hand.

"Hey girls…let me take this call…it's Cate's parents," Quinn asked them, appreciative when they quieted, "Hello?"

Santana, Brittany, and Rachel watched Quinn as she listened to the voice on the other end of the phone and as her eyes filled with tears.

"Okay…I'll meet you there then…thanks for calling," Quinn said, her voice cracking and her tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Q, what happened?" Brittany asked first once Quinn ended the phone call.

"It's Cate…the police just called them…she wrecked her bike," Quinn told them what she had just been told by Cate's father, "The police said she's hurt badly…I have to get to the hospital…_now_."

"Come on…I'll drive," Rachel told her, linking her arm through Quinn's, as Brittany put her arm around the shorter blonde's shoulders, the four of them heading downstairs to Rachel's car.

* * *

><p><strong>7:12 pm<strong>

Brittany looked over at Santana in the darkness of the backseat as Rachel drove the four of them to Lima Memorial Hospital. The Latina was looking out her passenger window, staring off at the passing street lamps as they drove the neighborhood streets.

The tension was palpable inside the car, because they were all nervous for Quinn but didn't know what to say to her. Brittany didn't know Cate very well, but she liked her instantly…and the kindness and protection the older girl had shown for Santana made Brittany adore her that much more.

The blonde dancer knew Rachel must be feeling the weight of the silence hanging in the car when the petite brunette reached to turn on the radio. Brittany saw her reach over to Quinn who was seated next to her as Rachel drew back her hand from the volume knob of her radio, putting her hand on top of Quinn's and squeezing it.

Brittany looked back over at the brunette next to her and reached across the fabric-distance between them to take hold of Santana's left hand, weaving her long fingers in between Santana's shorter ones.

Rachel slowed the car to turn into the hospital parking lot, following the giant, white arrows painted on the pavement of the driveway, pointing them in the direction of the emergency entrance. Once she located an empty parking space, Rachel shut off the ignition and pulled out her key, grabbing her small purse and climbing out of the driver's side.

Santana stepped from the backseat and closed the passenger-side door behind her. She hesitated at the rear of the car as Rachel and Quinn walked quickly past her, heading toward the brightly-lit entrance.

Brittany circled from the driver side of the car, asking, "You coming?"

Santana looked up at the familiar sign that read EMERGENCY in bold red letters, remembering the last two times she passed through those double doors, she was being wheeled in on a gurney, and she swallowed hard before responding in a shaky voice, "Yeah."

Brittany knew that look on her beloved's face. She moved closer to Santana, putting her arm around her shoulders to encourage her to take a step forward. Santana sometimes seemed diminutive to Brittany when she stood like this with her, side by side.

The Latina took in a deep breath and finally forced herself to walk, but she was thankful Brittany was right beside her for support. The two of them caught up to Rachel and Quinn as they entered the lobby of the urgent care area of the hospital.

"I don't see her parents," Quinn said, looking around the various couches, benches, and chairs that were randomly scattered throughout the large, open space. Quinn had only met the Boyds once…briefly…when Cate and she had stopped by their house to pick up something Cate needed from her dad. She remembered them being more elderly than she anticipated even though she knew they were older when they adopted Cate. Quinn was also impressed with how respectful and nice they were to her during such a short visit, knowing they knew she was dating Cate.

"Should we look around?" Brittany asked.

"Q, why don't you ask someone at the front desk?" Santana suggested.

"I'll go with you," Rachel told her, sensing Quinn was masking how frightened she was at the moment, her fidgeting with her hands not missed by the small brunette.

Quinn moved toward a circular, wooden information desk, with Rachel right behind her.

"Do you want to sit down?" Brittany asked Santana.

The Latina craned her neck to look around the room again, spotting two uniformed police officers talking together at the far side of the lobby. One of them was holding a black motorcycle helmet that had a giant scuff across the side of it where the paint had been removed.

"Santana?" Brittany nudged her.

"Huh?" she said, her attention returning back to the tall blonde next to her.

"Should we sit?"

"That's Cate's helmet," she said softly, her worry now mounting too.

"What did they say?" Brittany asked as Quinn and Rachel walked up to them.

"They're with the doctor now," Rachel repeated the information they discovered from talking to the information desk.

Santana kept watching the officers as they conversed with a young man in blue scrubs. One of them was making notes on a small, black notepad as the man in scrubs spoke.

The officers finished their conversation and started walking in their direction as the girls stood near the hospital entrance. When they were nearly to them, Santana stepped in their path and said, "Excuse me."

The older of the officers replied, "Yes?" He was still holding the helmet which Quinn then spotted.

"That's Cate's helmet," she acknowledged loudly, her panic spilling out of her, "Cate Boyd…do you have any information about her?"

The officers looked at each other then back at the group of girls.

"Do you know when her parents will be available to talk to us?" he inquired.

"They're talking with the doctor," Quinn replied.

"It can wait until tomorrow then…would you give them this card and ask them to contact us first chance they have?" the younger officer asked, a sympathetic look on his face.

Rachel reached out to take the business card from his hand since she was closest to him.

"They'll want this too," the older one stated, handing over the helmet.

Quinn leaned to take it from him, seeing a large dent under the scratched paint. Tears immediately welled up in her green eyes.

"We're very sorry for your loss," the younger officer stated quietly.

"What?" Santana asked out of instant shock.

The older cop shot a look to the less-experienced one. "Just have them call that number tomorrow," he repeated as they both turned to exit the large, double doors to the outside.

Quinn stood there several seconds, processing the words she heard spoken, trying to make them signify anything but what those words typically meant. The single word _**loss**_ reverberated inside her head as all the blood in her body felt like it was simultaneously throbbing through her veins yet draining out of her too. Her eyes started twitching from the brightness of the flouresent lights above them and her legs lost all their strength. She could feel herself falling as if in slow motion, and she sensed quick movement around her but was unsure which of the girls was first to break her fall.

She heard one of them say her name and another one tell her it would be okay, but their words of support were muted by the silent wailing inside her head. Quinn could hear somebody screaming "Noooooooooooo," but it was mostly overwhelmed by the deafening sound of somebody sobbing. As she sat crumbled on the cold tile of the hospital emergency room, holding a shattered motorcycle helmet to her chest, Quinn finally realized those sounds she heard were coming from deep inside her.

_**How fickle my heart and how woozy my eyes**_

_**I struggle to find any truth in your lies**_

_**And now my heart stumbles on things I don't know**_

_**This weakness I feel I must finally show…**_

_**Lend me your hand and we'll conquer them all**_

_**But lend me your heart and I'll just let you fall**_

_**Lend me your eyes I can change what you see**_

_**But your soul you must keep, totally free**_

_**Har har, har har, har har, har har…**_

_**In these bodies we will live, in these bodies we will die**_

_**Where you invest your love, you invest your life**_

_**In these bodies we will live, in these bodies we will die**_

_**Where you invest your love, you invest your life…**_

_**Awake my soul, awake my soul**_

_**Awake my soul**_

_**You were made to meet your maker.**_

_**Awake my soul, awake my soul**_

_**Awake my soul…**_

_**You were made to meet your maker.**_

_**You were made to meet your maker.**_

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note<strong>: The songs referenced in this chapter are _Glitter In the Air_ by P!nk, _Hand in My Pocket _by Alanis Morissette, and _Awake My Soul_ by Mumford & Sons.

Thank you again for being patient while I worked on this chapter. It turned out to be my longest chapter to date, so I hope the payoff was worth the wait. :)

Also, thank you for your votes to name Brittany's little sister. Emily won, as you saw. Hannah and Courtney were close seconds…so her official name will be Emily Hannah Pierce. It was a lot of fun to have you guys participate in the writing process with me.

Please be sure to leave a review and let me know what your thoughts are on this chapter. It was very emotional to write so I hope you are moved by it too. As always, I truly appreciate each of you taking the time out of your life to read my story. Kim


	21. Chapter 21

**Author's note**: Chapter 20 ended on such a shocking note, huh? I was thrilled that you guys really seemed moved by the sudden turn of events. I love it when readers are so invested in characters and what happens to them. Thank you so much for your comments!

* * *

><p><strong>Her Smile Heals Me (Chapter 21)<strong>

**Saturday, July 4, 2009**

**6:20 pm**

Santana walked into Brittany's bedroom behind her best friend and threw down her red and black Cheerios duffle bag with a thud, closing the door out of habit and kicking off her white, standard-issued sneakers before plopping down in the middle of the bed, the pleats from her uniform skirt spreading out to where her red bloomers showed.

Brittany moved into the interior-set bathroom without saying a word, humming light-heartedly to herself, leaving the bathroom door cracked as she did often.

The young Latina rolled her neck around and around, trying to loosen her muscles from some of the stiffness she'd felt all day during cheer practice. Being on the varsity squad as freshmen had been quite the accomplishment for Santana, Brittany, and Quinn Fabray, but with that accolade, came intense physical work, inner discipline, and a constant reminder from Coach Sue Sylvester that their best was never good enough.

"What time are your parents picking us up, Britt?"

Brittany answered loudly from inside the bathroom, "The fireworks don't start until eight!"

"So like…seven-thirty?" Santana tried to pinpoint, raising her voice to make sure she was heard.

She heard the flush of the toilet then running water from the faucet before Brittany opened the door and stepped out, flattening the skirt on her Cheerios uniform and saying, "Around then…why?"

"Just wondering…," Santana asked, flipping through a magazine as she lay on her stomach across Brittany's bed, her now bare feet raised up behind her and crossed at the ankles, "Do we have to actually sit with them?"

"Because of Emily?" Brittany pouted slightly, taking off her shoes and socks, leaving them next to Santana's at the foot of her bed.

"Well, she did scream the whole time last year…," Santana laughed, turning a page of the magazine.

"She's little, Tan…the loud booms scared her," Brittany defended, taking a drink from a water bottle then setting it on her nightstand.

"That's not why though…I overheard Quinn say she's going tonight with Finn Hudson," the Latina explained.

"And so…what? You want to spy on Quinn?" Brittany laughed, climbing onto the bed, laying on her stomach next to Santana.

"It's not 'spying', Britt…it's 'checking out the competition'…," Santana clarified.

"Yeah, okay…whatever," Brittany laughed more, absent-mindedly hooking her legs with Santana's in the air behind them as the two talked, leaning into her slightly to look at the open magazine, "Why are you so obsessed lately with everything Quinn does?"

"Because…Coach Sylvester's been favoring her all summer…she even let her stand in the center today for group photos," Santana said with an almost accusatory tone, "…some are saying she's going to name Quinn as captain when school starts back."

"That's crazy…Coach wouldn't put a sophomore as head Cheerio…would she?"

"She would if Q starts putting out for Finn Hudson…," Santana scowled, "…which is _why_ I want to see what's going on between them tonight at the river."

Quinn was Santana's main competition in her determined-climb to the top of the popularity ladder, and the young Latina watched the conspicuous blonde dutifully, searching for ways to stay several steps ahead of the seemingly-perfect bombshell.

"That's silly, Tan…Quinn would never do anything with Finn…or any other boy…," Brittany attempted to offset her best friend's worries, "…she's strict catholic…she even mentioned starting a celibacy club in the fall."

Santana smirked at Brittany's reminder of Quinn's latest quest for spreading celibacy among high schoolers at McKinley. The entire idea was as absurd as it was ironic to Santana who knew Quinn was just as motivated as she was to adhere to Coach Sylvester's requirements for Cheerios success…and Coach's number one requirement was that each of her girls keeps a popular guy on her arm. In fact, the Latina's pursuit for ultimate popularity was her only motivation for giving any of McKinley High's guys her attention…and her body…otherwise her attention would only be on her truest desire.

Santana turned her head to look at the unconventional blonde next to her. Brittany was the one person in the entire world who made no requirements of Santana and who encouraged her to just be herself.

"So? That doesn't mean anything, Britt…I'm catholic…and I have sex," the Latina reminded her, "right?"

"Yes…yes you do…," Brittany concurred with a giggle, knowing that both of their 'slept with him' lists were steadily growing, but she added with a playful nudge, "well…you do with _some _people."

Santana swallowed hard when she took a breath and caught a whiff of Brittany's intoxicating scent as the blonde lay within inches of her. It was a scent Santana had become increasingly familiar with over the last few months now that the girls were more…_physically_…bonded.

Santana paused, her body involuntarily stiffening, thoughts suddenly racing inside her brain, then she hesitantly inquired, "Britt…would…you do…_more_?"

"More what?" Brittany asked innocently, turning a page of the magazine.

"More than…kiss?" Santana's thoughts froze and her breath caught in her chest as she waited for the blonde's answer.

"With you?" Brittany questioned out of clarification more than reluctance before saying with a smile, "Sure."

In that fleeting moment in time, Santana Lopez's entire existence altered without her even realizing it as she simply responded, "Oh."

"Would you?" Brittany tilted her head to look more directly into her best friend's face.

Santana instantly looked down at the magazine in her hands, trying to decide quickly the best response. _Of course, Britt…all I've wanted for the past_ _two years is to hold you, and kiss you, and…touch you_…did not seem like the most self-preserving reaction at the moment, so Santana reined in her desire, looking back up into Brittany's blue eyes, and said with a slightly dismissive shrug, "Yeah, sure…why not."

_**Heart beats fast**_

_**Colors and promises**_

_**How to be brave**_

_**How can I love when I'm afraid to fall**_

_**But watching you stand alone**_

_**All of my doubt suddenly goes away somehow…**_

Brittany smiled widely, knowing Santana extremely well after years of friendship. She knew her best friend's words did not match the current look on her face. Brittany knew she had seen that look on Santana's face many, many times, and she knew she had started seeing it more and more since the first kiss they shared a few months earlier.

"Then…kiss me," Brittany told the Latina, challenging her to come after what the blonde knew her best friend wanted but was too afraid to ask.

Santana swallowed hard and reflexively licked her plump lips before leaning in to kiss Brittany.

_**One step closer…**_

Santana wrapped one arm around Brittany's waist and pulled her up underneath her as she pushed the magazine off the edge of the bed with her other arm, settling on top of the long blonde.

She slipped her tongue inside Brittany's mouth, tasting watermelon from the Jolly Rancher she had recently eaten, causing Santana to grin, internally soothed.

To Santana, _this_ was the unassuming wholesomeness that was Brittany Pierce. Yes, she was beautiful and amazingly fit. Yes, she created poetry when she danced. Yes, she sometimes made no sense and sounded slightly insane when she spoke…but this girl…this beautiful, blonde, dancing…_crazy, _silly girl…was pure of heart, as if she were made of sunshine and rainbows…and Santana Lopez was totally in love with her.

_**I have died everyday waiting for you**_

_**Darling don't be afraid, I have loved you**_

_**For a thousand years**_

_**I'll love you for a thousand more…**_

Brittany loved it when Santana was on top of her. She loved feeling the Latina's weight pressed against her. Santana wasn't heavy or bulky like the guys Brittany had sex with…instead she was a delicate type of pressure that stoked at Brittany's internal fire.

The two of them never really said much to each other before…or during…and especially not after they made out like this, so they both just sort of had to guess at what the other one was thinking or feeling about each other.

Though Brittany never wanted to push Santana to talk outside of her comfort zone, it did seem rather odd to her to not know what Santana's thoughts were about the two of them, especially since she knew so many of Santana's other thoughts about everything else…sometimes knowing them before Santana even said them aloud.

Brittany knew though that _she_ had started enjoying the intensity she felt whenever she was close like this with Santana.

Brittany found recently that her hands roamed with more curiosity. The blonde was allured by the smoothness of Santana's skin, and the firmness of her breasts, even if they were always bound by fabric, and the fullness in the curve of Santana's backside.

Brittany ran her hands over Santana's prominent body parts as they kissed, thinking Santana seemed to enjoy it too if her subtle moans and intakes of air were any indication.

Their kisses became deeper, their tongues moving in and out and around each other, as their passion grew. She let out a guttural purr of pleasure when Santana ran her hand down Brittany's side, her thumb raking over her right breast then settling on her taut abdomen.

The blonde kept waiting for the brunette to make a move or suggest something new, but Santana never said anything as they continued to kiss and run their hands up and down each other's bodies.

"Tan…do you maybe want to…take these off?" Brittany asked breathlessly, grabbing at the red fabric of Santana's Cheerios uniform, deciding someone needed to make a move.

Santana took a breath, lifting her head to say, "Yeah…um…sure…I'd like that."

_**Time stands still**_

_**Beauty in all she is**_

_**I will be brave**_

_**I will not let anything take away**_

_**What's standing in front of me**_

_**Every breath**_

_**Every hour has come to this…**_

The girls pulled apart and both sat up on Brittany's bed, folding their legs up underneath them, but neither of them said anything.

Santana reached up hesitantly as if she were going to unzip the side of Brittany's uniform top but withdrew her hand almost immediately and looked down at her lap then she reached up to unzip the side of her own top.

"What are you doing?" Brittany questioned with childlike curiosity.

Santana let out a nervous breath of air. "I don't even know."

Brittany put her hand on Santana's to stop her, smiling, "It's okay…let me."

The Latina almost forgot to breath when Brittany unzipped her red top then helped her lift it over her head. She did notice though that the blonde's hands were shaking when she reached up to unhook the front of Santana's sports bra.

"You're sure…right?" The enormity of the moment was not lost on Brittany.

Santana nodded, confirming, "Yes…I'm sure."

_**One step closer…**_

Brittany couldn't help but smile once Santana's breasts were exposed. They were beautiful…smooth, brown skin…and so full and round. She'd seen them often as the two changed clothes in front of each other in athletics and around the house, but there was now an erotic element added that caused her to lick her lips in anticipation of touching them.

"Now help me," Brittany pulled Santana's hand toward her, realizing the Latina needed the coaxing.

Santana devotedly reached to unzip Brittany's top and help her remove it, the same as she had done for her, leaning to reach behind her for the fastener on her bra, kissing her behind the ear as she sat back again, pulling off the white fabric to reveal Brittany's chest.

The best friends locked eyes…blue on brown…brown on blue…nonverbally encouraging each other that both wanted this then Santana leaned forward again to kiss Brittany on the lips.

_**I have died everyday waiting for you**_

_**Darling don't be afraid, I have loved you**_

_**For a thousand years**_

_**I'll love you for a thousand more…**_

Brittany pulled Santana with her as she lay back on her bed, running her hands up Santana's smooth back, feeling each of her vertebra, as Santana kissed a trail down and around the front of the blonde's neck.

The Latina cupped Brittany's right breast with her left hand, touching it softly at first with a respectful awe about her then squeezing it gently, hearing Brittany moan in pleasure.

Brittany closed her eyes and tilted her head back which caused her to arch up into Santana's touch. She could feel Santana's right breast pushed firmly into her left one then she felt Santana lick at the nipple on her right one, sending a heat straight to her groin.

"Ohhhhh," Brittany said before she realized the verbal encouragement had even left her throat.

Santana wasn't exactly sure what all to do to pleasure Brittany, but that certainly seemed to work so she did it again…then again to Brittany's other breast.

The two of them rolled around on the bed for a while, kissing and licking and touching and squeezing, until both of them were moaning and panting and until both of them were feeling an intense heat deep inside them.

"I want you to touch me…please," Brittany told Santana. All she could think of was the way she normally would touch herself, pleasuring herself, more recently thinking of Santana when she did, and Brittany knew she wanted the brunette's hands between her legs…_now_.

Santana rolled so that Brittany was on top of her so she could reach behind her and unhook the back closure of the blonde's cheerleading skirt. She was somewhat surprised when Brittany enthusiastically assisted to shimmy out of the skirt then the red bloomers then her underwear without any hesitation.

"Oh…wow…," Santana said, wide-eyed at the now naked blonde.

"Now you," Brittany smiled, helping Santana out of her skirt, bloomers, and underwear.

Once they both were completely unclothed, Brittany asked innocently, "Do you want under the covers?"

"Sure," Santana agreed, not really knowing why it mattered at this point, but her nerves were mounting so the sheets seemed like a comforting thought.

Brittany pulled back her comforter and pink sheets so the two of them could slide under them, and she smiled as she lay back against her fluffy pillows, saying jovially, "Okay…I'm ready."

Santana couldn't help but chuckle, her nerves lifting slightly, remembering that this was the same goofy girl who had made her swoon for two years now. She lowered herself on top of Brittany and kissed her deeply then ran a soft caress down her abdomen until her hand was right at Brittany's folds.

Santana smiled then licked her lips and watched Brittany's face as she ran her finger inside the blonde for the first time, pleased at how slick she found Brittany to already be. The look of pleasure that spread across Brittany's face under her touch nearly brought tears to Santana's eyes. Touching Brittany was something she'd thought about for so long, and now that she actually was, Santana was emotionally overwhelmed.

Brittany could see such tenderness in Santana's face as she rubbed her, and the more Santana rubbed, the more Brittany throbbed, and the more Brittany throbbed, the more she wanted to touch Santana in the same way.

The blonde raised her head up slightly to kiss Santana, and as they kissed, Brittany lowered her hand down between Santana's legs, running her long middle finger inside the Latina's equally wet folds.

"Ohhh god," escaped from Santana in between their frantic kisses, "Britt."

"Is that okay?" the blonde asked, her voice cracking under her growing arousal.

"Yeah…," the Latina confirmed, "Are you okay?"

"Uhuh…just keep rubbing…right…_there_," Brittany demonstrated with her finger on Santana's pulsing clit.

Santana moaned loudly, getting the message loud and clear.

The girls continued to stimulate each other faster and more intensely. Their faces were touching, but they gave no more thought to kissing at this point. Their only goal now was helping each other reach climax.

Santana knew Brittany came first because the blonde's hand stilled and she went stiff underneath her, so Santana kept rubbing, hoping that was the right thing to do.

When Brittany moaned loudly and cried out, "Ohhhh goood, Santana," as she quivered underneath the brunette, Santana felt like she had done the correct thing.

Hearing Brittany call out her name like that made Santana smile broadly, stoking her own internal heat. As soon as Brittany's orgasm finished, Santana felt the blonde's finger start again, but Brittany surprised her by rolling her onto her back.

"Ohhh god…," Brittany said, her breath catching in the back of her throat, "…I want you to feel that good too."

It took only a few more minutes under Brittany's intense manipulations before Santana felt a wave of electricity wash over her too, shaking her entire body, curling her toes.

She pulled Brittany down into another deep kiss once her senses returned, feeling the blonde's heart still pounding in her chest.

The two of them rested in a tight embrace until their pulse slowed and their breathing returned to normal.

Santana dragged her fingertips across the smooth skin of Brittany's back, relaxing under the weight of the blonde on top of her.

"Soooo…_that_ just happened," Brittany smiled, kissing Santana softly.

"Yeah…it did, didn't it?" Santana let out a deep breath and smiled too.

_**And all along I believed I would find you**_

_**Time has brought your heart to me**_

_**I have loved you for a thousand years**_

_**I'll love you for a thousand more…**_

* * *

><p><strong>Wednesday, June 29, 2011<strong>

**7:32 pm**

_In these bodies, we will live_

_In these bodies, we will die_

_Where you invest your love, you invest your life…_

"Noooooooooooo," Quinn bellowed as she collapsed to the floor of the emergency room at Lima Memorial Hospital, gutted by the news of Cate's death.

Santana watched, completely detached from the scene she was witnessing, stepping back a few steps as Rachel and Brittany moved quickly to catch Quinn as her legs folded, lowering her gently to the ground.

"Quinn," Rachel screamed out as the blonde beauty broke under the weight of her intense grief.

"It'll be okay, sweetheart," Brittany told her former Cheerios captain as she kneeled to the floor with her, holding her tightly from behind.

Rachel tried to pull the black helmet from Quinn's grip but met immediate resistance, Quinn telling her, "Nooo, don't…oh god, Caaaate."

Santana wanted to comfort her dear friend as she wept inconsolably, but the shock of the situation only served to shut down her emotions which were already so fragile.

"Santana!" Brittany turned to her and shouted, trying to pull her attention back to them, "Get some help."

The Latina heard the words her girlfriend said, but Brittany's instructions seemed slowed and muffled as if Santana was caught in some distorted vortex of time, one that was sucking all of the energy and movement around her into its uncontrollable force.

"How did this happen?" Quinn cried out as Santana stepped back several more steps then turned in a fog of emotion to find help…somebody…_anybody_…to make it all stop.

As the disconnected brunette moved toward the nurses' window, two women in dark blue scrubs ran past her, responding to the emotional scene playing out in their lobby.

Santana looked back toward Quinn, seeing Brittany and Rachel still down in the floor holding her. She saw that the blonde was now being attended by several hospital staff.

Santana continued down the corridor, still in her haze, thinking a restroom was what she needed to now locate. The dark-haired teen found herself moving impulsively down the hall where the exam rooms were situated, looking mindlessly in through the glass panels of the rooms she passed each one.

She paused in front of one exam room, not even sure why, seeing a team of nurses lifting a man to transfer him from the ambulance stretcher to an ER gurney.

"Santana?" a deep voice said to her from behind.

The brunette reacted to her name by rotating around, finding her father standing there, holding a sliver clipboard in one hand and a black ink pen in his other.

"Dad," she said with surprise even though she was more out of place than the tall, Hispanic man who wore a long, white lab coat and had a black stethoscope draped around his thick neck.

"What are you doing here?" he asked her.

"I uh…I…I'm here with Quinn," she stuttered, trying to push past her internal confusion.

"Is Quinn okay?" he inquired, the deepness of his voice echoing in the otherwise-stillness of the emergency hallway.

"There's been a death…a friend…was um…in an accident."

Her father narrowed his eyes, "…the motorcycle accident?"

Santana nodded.

"Tragic for her parents…," he stated emotionless, "The grief counselor is with them now…there's a lot of paperwork."

Santana nodded again, unsure of what to say, unable to extract any additional replies from the numbness inside her.

"You look thin…too thin," he told her more out of concern than criticism.

The teenager looked down at the light-colored tile, realizing her pulse was quickening as she stood in his intimidating presence.

"Your mother mentioned seeing you."

Two nurses pushed through the swinging door of an exam room near them, moving quickly down the back hallway.

Both Santana and her father watched as they passed them.

Dr. Lopez looked again at his daughter, "I know that you probably hate me."

"I don't hate you," Santana responded sadly, pausing, then adding even more sadly, "I wish you didn't hate me."

The doctor pushed the closure at the top of his pen, clicking it shut then sliding it into the front pocket of his lab coat. "I don't hate you, Santana…you're my child…but…I don't…I won't…approve of your lifestyle _choices_."

"If I had a _choice_…in any of this…I would choose to be the _same_ as everyone else…," she told him audaciously, "…I would choose to not have to worry what people are thinking…or saying…about me. To be treated _differently_? Why would I _choose_ that, Daddy?"

Dr. Lopez didn't answer her.

"It's okay though…I'm making my life where I'm accepted for who I am…where I'm _loved_ for being me."

"I do love you, Santana," the doctor responded defensively, "I just have your best interest in mind."

"No," Santana was unconvinced, "No…you have _your_ best interest in mind."

There was a loud page over the intercom, "Dr. Lopez to ER Line 3."

Hector Lopez took a deep breath and stated, "I am sorry if I've hurt you, Santana."

Santana usually avoided direct eye-contact with her father, normally feeling so insignificant under his authority, but she lifted her head and locked eyes with him, telling him, "You have no idea what you've done to me."

Dr. Lopez stood there a brief moment, diverting his eyes first, then he walked away without further comment.

Santana watched her father as he moved down the corridor and turned right, disappearing around a corner, leaving her alone. A young girl exited a large swinging door. She was dressed in the same blue, hospital scrubs as the young guy with her, and Santana recognized him as the young nurse who spoke earlier with the police officers.

After they past, Santana stepped up to that same door, pushing up on her toes to look through the glass- paned cutout in the middle of the door. She saw a white sheet draped over a patient who was laying alone in the urgent care room. The Latina swallowed hard, her first thought being that could have been her two weeks earlier and her second thought being…_oh god, Cate_.

Without thinking, something inherently manipulating her movement, she eased quietly through the door. Seeing nobody else in the room, Santana inched her way up to the gurney and lifted back the sheet, not knowing what inside her wanted to see Cate one last time.

Upon seeing the lifeless body of her friend under the pulled-back sheet, Santana's emotions finally broke free, her eyes filling with hot tears, clouding her vision, making her unsure she was seeing what she was seeing.

She backed away quickly, her senses overwhelmed, and threw open the door, running back toward the lobby, shouting, "Quinn!"

* * *

><p>Brittany tucked a lock of Quinn's blonde hair behind her left ear and offered her another tissue that one of the older nurses gave them.<p>

Quinn didn't move to take one, staring off into space, so Rachel pulled one from the box and used it to dab at the tears still flowing freely from Quinn's green eyes.

"I loved her," Quinn said, her voice cracking.

"We know you did, honey," Brittany assured her, kneeling on the floor in front of her as Quinn sat on a padded chair in the far corner of the hospital lobby. The larger blonde compassionately held one of Quinn's hands, caressing it.

The girls tried to get Quinn to go to Rachel's car when several hospital employees offered assistance, but the devastated teen refused to leave the lobby, saying at first she wanted to see Cate then, once Rachel and Brittany calmed her slightly, saying she wanted to talk to Cate's parents before she went home.

The hospital staff had been extremely kind, death being an unfortunately-common part of their daily function, and they offered to move Quinn to a family grief room. The girls couldn't get her to leave the lobby though and then Brittany realized Santana was missing.

"Where do you think she went?" Brittany whispered to Rachel who sat in a separate chair right next to Quinn.

"She probably went to the restroom…maybe she didn't want to get upset in front of Quinn," Rachel leaned down to whisper back to Brittany.

"It's been almost twenty minutes," Brittany pointed out, craning her next to look across the widest part of the lobby, seeing lots of movement back and forth from the chairs to the nurses' desk, but not seeing Santana anywhere.

"Don't worry, Britt…she'll be back," Rachel assured her with a smile, squeezing her arms around Quinn's shoulders.

"I should look for her…," Brittany said with mounting concern, "…I'll be right back."

The tall blonde stood and walked toward the emergency area, crossing paths with a young girl in her early twenties who was helping a friend walk up to the Emergency Admittance desk.

The two of them caught Brittany's eye because the girl was practically carrying her injured friend, supporting most of her weight with her arm around her waist, holding on to the friend's other arm that was draped tightly around the girl's shoulders for assistance.

"HELP!" the young girl shouted desperately as she crossed in front of Brittany, practically dragging her weakened-friend up to the nurses' station, "My friend…she needs help!"

"Oh lord," a large, dark-skinned nurse rushed to help the two girls, seeing that the injured girl was covered in her own blood, saying over her shoulder to a younger nurse, "Get a chair!"

"What happened?" the larger nurse asked the friend.

"I don't know…I came home and found her passed out in the floor," the friend explained as best she could.

Another nurse moved to assist, stating, "What is going on tonight? Is it a full moon?"

"Please help her…she's in a lot of pain," the light-haired girl pleaded.

Brittany circled around the opposite side of the waiting area to avoid the latest influx of activity, trying to locate the restroom with hopes of finding Santana, looking back at the girl who was being positioned into a wheelchair by two nurses.

"Britt!"

Brittany turned to her left to see Santana walking briskly from the urgent care corridor.

"Britt…where's Quinn?" the Latina asked loudly, contributing to the frenzy near them.

The tall blonde pointed toward the back corner of the lobby where Rachel still sat, comforting Quinn. Brittany then immediately turned her gaze back to the young brunette being assisted by the nurses, hearing them ask the injured girl, "Do you remember what happened to you?"

The brunette mumbled something in return.

Santana frantically ran toward Quinn, saying when she reached her, "Quinn…it's not her!"

"What?" Rachel looked up at the Latina.

"It's not her…they're wrong…," Santana repeated, out of breath.

Quinn stood immediately, her eyes wide from the emotional U-turn, "What are you saying, San?"

"The police were wrong…it's not Cate," Santana clarified, fresh tears in her eyes.

"Quinn," Brittany said as she walked up behind them.

The girls turned toward the tall blonde who pointed their attention toward the familiar girl in the wheelchair.

"Oh my god…Cate!" Quinn screamed, running over to her, the others following closely.

"What happened to her?" Santana asked the girl she recognized as Becca.

"I got to the house and found her on the floor like this," Becca explained again.

"Who did this?" Quinn demanded, wanting desperately to bypass the nurses so she could touch Cate to confirm for real that her love was alive and in front of her.

"Step back, girls," the nurse told them, brushing them aside with her forearm as she bent over Cate to apply gauze to the blood-crusted gash over her right eye.

"Cate, what happened?" Quinn tried talking around the large woman then she looked to Becca, asking, "Did she say anything to you?"

"You're Quinn?" the older girl asked the blonde teen.

Quinn nodded, fresh tears falling from her already red, puffy eyes.

"She's been asking for you," Becca gave her a sympathetic half-smile.

"Go check on what rooms are clearing out soon," the older nurse instructed a young girl who was standing nearby then she added with a pat to Cate's knee, "It's a full house tonight…but we'll get you in a room as quickly as possible…just hang tight."

As soon as the nurse moved, Quinn shifted toward Cate, bending to pull her close, crying, "I love you so much."

"Quinn?" Cate said weakly, her eyes nearly swollen shut from her injured nose and eye.

"I'm here, honey…I'm here," Quinn kissed her on the side of her mouth, trailing light kisses gently up her blood streaked face and kissing the gauze covering her eyebrow and then the bruised bridge of her nose, "I can't believe you're alive…oh my god, I thought you were gone forever."

* * *

><p>David Karofsky sat staring into space, detailed moments of his life playing in his mind like a YouTube video. His memory focused on his time with his mom when he was little, sharing picnics under a tree in the park and when the two of them would toss a football back and forth, and when he was older and she would let him drive her car home from the grocery store, reminding him not to tell his dad since he didn't yet have his license.<p>

He remembered vividly his years of sports, the thrill he always felt when the crowd cheered his team's victories, and then the point when he realized it wasn't the cheerleaders, in their short, pleated skirts, at which he was always secretly gawking but rather his teammates in their skintight uniform pants.

His face flushed red and his gaze drifted further down to the metal table at which he sat. Without lifting up his head, David's eyes moved up to look around the low-lit room. Anytime he had thoughts of guys, he always found himself looking downward as if anyone near him could read his mind. The only person near him now was his defense attorney, and David shifted nervously in his metal chair.

"You're _sure_ you are prepared to do this?" Thomas Lowell emphasized.

David cleared his throat, answering, "Yes."

"Before you say one word…you better damn well realize what you are doing to your family," his attorney said out of the corner of his mouth.

David didn't respond. His only concern now was being honest so he might restore Santana's future and free his mind from the vise of guilt that threatened his every thought.

The door to the small room opened, and Detectives Sheldon and Mills walked in followed by ADA Eric Cole.

"David…we're told you want to revise your original statement regarding what happened between you and Santana Lopez on the night of your junior prom?" Detective Sheldon sat down in the metal chair on the opposite side of the table from Karofsky and his attorney, looking over his shoulder at his partner who stood in the corner of the room, leaning his broad shoulder on the drab, gray wall.

"First…," Thomas interjected, "…we want to hear what assurances the DA's office is prepared to offer my client."

Eric sat down next to Detective Sheldon and opened a manila file folder, shuffling several white sheets of paper.

"Nothing," the ADA looked up and smirked.

"Eric…I felt we had an agreement when we spoke on the phone earlier," Thomas accused, his aggravation clear.

"My office is confident we can prove to a jury of David's _peers_ that he _knowingly_ raped Ms. Lopez," Eric stressed to highlight the public scrutiny the Karofskys would be under if the case went to trial.

"Oh come on now, Eric…you know as well as I know how _fragile_ your victim's testimony would be on the stand," Thomas sneered in his attempt to verbally trump ADA Cole's threats.

"I have witness after witness lined up to describe _in detail_ how David bullied and terrorized students at that high school…including…one incident where he made verbal threats of physical harm to Ms. Lopez in front of two other students she attempted to defend against him," Eric was undeterred in his growing confidence.

"Stop!" David shouted, "I've had enough of this legal crap."

The last thing Karofsky wanted at this point was to torture Santana and her Glee Club friends any longer. At this point, he just wanted to move forward as best he could.

"David…please let me be the one to speak," Thomas warned him, holding up his hand in a paternal chastising-type manner.

"There's nothing more to say…I'm ready to take whatever my punishment will be," David swallowed hard, adding boldly, "But…in exchange for my confession…I do have one condition."

* * *

><p><em><strong>In every heart,<strong>_

_**There is a room**_

_**A sanctuary safe and strong**_

_**To heal the wounds,**_

_**From lovers past**_

_**Until a new one comes along…**_

_**I spoke to you,**_

_**In cautious tones**_

_**You answered me with no pretense**_

_**And still I feel,**_

_**I said too much**_

_**My silence is my self-defense…**_

_**And every time,**_

_**I've held a rose**_

_**It seems I only felt the thorns**_

_**And so it goes,**_

_**And so it goes**_

_**And so will you soon, I suppose…**_

_**But if my silence,**_

_**Made you leave**_

_**Then that would be my worst mistake**_

_**So I will share**_

_**This room with you**_

_**And you can have this heart to break…**_

The hospital door shut as Mr. and Mrs. Boyd exited their daughter's hospital room, and Quinn turned her head back around to look at Cate.

"Hi again," Quinn smiled sweetly. She was on the emotional rollercoaster ride of her life tonight. Feeling the loss of Cate was more than she thought she could bear then seeing her alive was a whole other out-of-body experience. At this point, she felt like she was having a dream within a dream.

Once the Boyds and the hospital staff figured out that Jordan was the one killed on Cate's motorcycle and Cate was treated for her injuries and moved to a room for the night, Quinn was finally calming a bit, suddenly feeling her entire body ache.

"Why don't you close your eyes?" Quinn suggested softly, running her fingertips along Cate's jaw line as she sat next to her bedside, "You look tired."

Cate smiled back at her, the light blue of her eyes masked by her swollen facial features caused by her broken nose, "You look more tired."

"It's been an emotional night," Quinn admitted, swallowing hard to hold back any more tears, but they just seemed to keep flowing. Her head hurt and her nose was stuffy from all the crying she had done in the last three hours, but she was finally alone with Cate, which was all she truly cared about now.

"I'm _so_ sorry," the older girl reached up and took Quinn's extended hand in hers.

"I'm not…you're alive," Quinn smiled.

"Well…_sort of_," Cate joked.

"Yeah…you've looked better," Quinn forced a joke too, causing Cate to chuckle.

"Oww…don't make me laugh," the brunette pulled her arm around her chest, supporting her broken ribs.

"Your pain meds should be kicking in soon," the young blonde told her, standing up to turn off the florescent lamp over the hospital bed then pulling up Cate's basic hospital-beige blanket to cover her arms, kissing her sweetly on the lips, "So just close your eyes…and relax…and let them do their job."

"Quinn…," Cate said, dutifully closing both eyes.

"Hmm?" Quinn sat back down in the chair next to Cate's bed, pulling her hand from under the edge of the thin blanket and sheet so she could hold it.

"I love you very much," the older girl said, trailing off into sleep.

Quinn pulled Cate's hand up to kiss it, careful to avoid her IV connection, "I love you too, Cate Boyd."

_**And this is why**_

_**My eyes are closed.**_

_**It's just as well for all I've seen.**_

_**And so it goes,**_

_**And so it goes**_

_**And you're the only one who knows…**_

_**So I would choose**_

_**To be with you**_

_**That's if the choice were mine to make**_

_**But you can make**_

_**decisions too**_

_**And you can have this heart to break…**_

_**And so it goes, and so it goes**_

_**And you're the only one who knows…**_

* * *

><p>"Quinn?"<p>

The blonde felt a soft touch caress the back of her head as consciousness slowly pulled her from sleep. She opened her heavy eyelids and turned her head to see Santana standing next to her.

"Sorry to have to wake you…but it's time to go," the Latina told her quietly, not wanting to wake Cate.

Quinn turned back toward the battered brunette, saying, "No…I don't want to leave her alone tonight."

"She'll be fine…she just needs rest…just like you do," Santana put her arm around Quinn's shoulders.

Without moving, the former head cheerleader asked with a slight laugh, "The girls sent you in after me?"

"Yes," Santana smiled, "They know I won't take no as an answer from you."

Quinn shifted uncomfortably in her chair without budging, squeezing Cate's hand, refusing to take her eyes off her.

"You can't sit in that chair all night, Q."

There was a silence that hung in the air before Quinn took a deep breath and slowly let it out.

"Is it wrong that I'm _glad_ it was Jordan on that motorcycle instead of Cate?" the blonde surmised, her voice still thick with emotion.

"I'm sad for Jordan…she was kind to me when I needed it most," Santana said sadly.

Quinn wiped at a tear as it rolled down her pale face. "I don't mean that I'm glad _she's_ dead."

"I know what you mean," Santana confirmed with sympathy in her response, "If Brittany died…I would die with her."

"I'm in love with Cate, San."

"I know you are," Santana assured her, squeezing Quinn's shoulder and smiling down at her as the blonde looked up at her best friend, then Santana added with a wink, "It's pretty obvious."

Quinn paused, looking back down at Cate, then she said bluntly, "I'm pretty sure I'm gay."

Santana smiled again though Quinn didn't see it. "Well…welcome then…the signup sheet is on the bulletin board in the main lobby."

Quinn laughed and rolled her eyes, appreciative for the respite in the gravity surrounding the night. "I really hate you sometimes," she said playfully.

"Yeah…that's what makes us besties for life," Santana leaned over to hug Quinn tightly, kissing her on the top of her head, "I love you, Quinn…you deserve all the happiness in the world…and I think Cate is wonderful…you are very blessed."

"I love you too, Santana…," Quinn squeezed the Latina's hand that was resting on her shoulder, "…we're _both_ blessed…so don't screw it up anymore, okay? I'm here for you…no more judgment…I promise you that much."

"I appreciate that, Q…and…I'm done screwing things up…I feel like I'm gaining back my focus…besides…I got plans with that silly blonde…," the Latina confided lightheartedly, "…I'm actually starting to look forward to the future."

"That's great to hear," Quinn encouraged her, "Because…that silly blonde is totally devoted to you."

"So come on…kiss your girlfriend goodnight…and let's go home and go to sleep."

Quinn felt all warm inside hearing Santana say that to her, and she stood and leaned over Cate's hospital bed to kiss her lovingly several times before turning to link her arm through Santana's arm, telling the Latina, "Life's good…isn't it?"

"Yeah…it is…," Santana agreed as the two friends walked toward the door to leave, "…when you _least _expect it."

* * *

><p>"Rachel?"<p>

The petite brunette turned back around as she, Brittany, Santana, and Quinn passed the low-lit living room in her house.

"Dad?" Rachel acknowledged, "You didn't need to wait up…I told you on the phone we'd be home late."

Daniel Berry closed the hardback book that was propped on his outstretched legs, removing his eye-glasses, and yawned, "Eleven isn't that late…I was just reading my book…you girls come in here please."

Rachel looked back at her friends as they stepped away from the staircase and moved back toward the living room as requested.

"Please…sit for a moment," Daniel waved them all further into the cozy space that was lit by a soft glow from a floor lamp situated behind Daniel's leather recliner.

Brittany sat at one end of the couch while Quinn sat at the other end. Santana took a seat between her former Cheerios, and Rachel sat on the floor at their feet.

"I'm very sorry about your friend, Santana," he told the larger brunette.

"Thanks…I still can't believe someone I know is actually _dead_ now," Santana said.

Brittany could feel Santana physically shiver so she wrapped her arm around the Latina's waist, pulling her into her.

"It's tragic when any young life is lost…," Daniel lamented, "…I hope each of you girls will take away from this night the fact that life is so fragile…_nobody_ is invincible…and those we love can be lost in the blink of an eye."

Rachel reached up and put her hand tenderly on Quinn's knee, and the blonde beauty looked down at the brunette at her feet and smiled.

"But Cate is doing okay, Quinn?" he inquired.

Quinn took a deep, steadying breath, her head still pounding from the events of the evening, reporting, "Yeah…she was in a lot of pain…she has two broken ribs, a broken nose, and a concussion…so it's completely understandable."

"Did they admit her?" he wondered.

"Yes…the doctor said she'd probably go home on Friday." There was some relief in Quinn's voice at this point.

"I'm glad to hear that," Daniel said sweetly, "You all are staying here tonight, I hope?"

"Yes, I told Quinn she doesn't need to be alone tonight so she's going to sleep in my room," Rachel assured him.

"And our prodigal daughter has returned for the night?" Daniel added with a wide grin.

They all chuckled.

"Yes…and I'm going to get my stuff tomorrow to move back in…," Santana smiled, "…so if you guys want to back out…speak up now."

"Never," Daniel assured her, "Trey and I are both elated."

"As am I…," Rachel added with a pat on Santana's shin.

"Well, listen…the other reason, I needed to speak to you, Santana…is that I had a phone call tonight from ADA Cole," he said cautiously.

All heads turned to the Latina.

"Okay…," she sounded guarded.

"There's been a surprising turn of events in your case," he began, "David Karofsky has offered up his confession."

There was an audible gasp that traveled around the room.

"So…he's going to actually _admit_ he raped me?" Santana wasn't sure she understood Daniel correctly.

"That's what he told the detectives tonight."

"Well…so that's it, huh? I mean, it's over now, right?" Brittany interjected, "She doesn't have to testify or anything?"

"That's correct…," Daniel told them, "…but…there's a catch."

"A catch?" Quinn didn't think that sound like a good thing.

"He wants to meet with you, Santana," Daniel notified her of David's condition.

"No…no, that's not a good idea," Quinn quickly defended.

"I agree! That's just allowing Karofsky to victimize Santana all over again, Dad…," Rachel concurred, "You can't allow him to do that."

"He shouldn't get any preferential treatment!" Quinn was adamant, "He doesn't have the right to make demands on Santana."

"Girls, girls…," Daniel threw up his hands in defeat of the news he was delivering, "…I understand _all_ of that…I promise I do…I am just telling you what the DA's office told me…ultimately though…this is Santana's decision."

"San?" Quinn prompted the brunette to her right.

Santana paused, unable to fully process her feelings about meeting face to face with David Karofsky. She turned and quietly asked, "Britt…what do you think I should do?"

Brittany smiled and gently ran her hand from Santana's waist up her spine to rest supportively on the curve of her back, thinking aloud, "Well…maybe it's not a _terrible_ idea…it could give you closure…maybe?"

"Maybe…," Santana agreed reflectively, "Do I have time to think about it?"

"You've been given until Friday at noon by David's defense attorney…after that, he said they'll push through to trial."

"Okay…I'll let you know soon then," Santana confirmed, leaning back slightly into the crook of Brittany's arm around her.

"Sounds good, sweetheart…if you want to talk about it more then come to me," Daniel advised, standing up and setting his book on a side table near the cutout entrance to the room, "I'm glad each of you are safe and sound tonight…sleep well."

"Goodnight, Dad," Rachel told him as they watched him walk toward the stairs.

Santana held up her hand to stop words from coming out of Rachel and Quinn's mouths as they quickly turned to her, "Stop…I know everything you both are saying is true…and I love you both dearly for trying to protect me…but I need to think about it…ok?"

Brittany quietly ran her hand up and down Santana's spine.

Both Quinn and Rachel nodded sympathetically without saying another word on the topic.

Rachel stretched her legs to stand from the floor, taking Quinn by the hand to pull her off the couch, saying, "Let's go to bed."

* * *

><p>Brittany dried her freshly-washed face then turned out the light in the Berrys' bathroom, crossing the hallway to open Santana's bedroom door. She saw her girlfriend lying in bed, propped up on two pillows, playing Angry Birds on her iPhone.<p>

"Does it feel good to be back here?" Brittany asked, pulling off her jeans and shirt and laying them across a chair in the corner of the room. She moved to the bed and climbed under the covers, snuggling up to Santana.

"Yes, definitely," Santana commented, adding, "Oh crap…seriously? That column fell right on that damn pig…how did that not kill him?"

"You should try the Rio one if you think those pigs are annoying…the monkeys are way worse," Brittany pulled Santana's phone down so she could see the screen better, "…oh yeah…that's a hard level."

"I swear these fucking pigs smirk at me every time they survive," Santana complained.

"Santana…chill…it's just a pig," Brittany said, squeezing her closer, "It's not personal."

"Whatever…," Santana said playfully dismissive, rolling her eyes and closing her phone to set it on the bedside table, "Oh hey…news alert…Quinn came out to me tonight."

"What?" Brittany wasn't sure if she was surprised or not, "Really? What did she say?"

"She said 'I'm pretty sure I'm gay'…," Santana repeated.

"And…what did you say?"

"I said…Duh!"

Brittany giggled, affably slapping at Santana. "You did not."

"No…but…duh!" Santana laughed too.

"Be sympathetic, honey…," Brittany scolded gently, "I seem to recall a certain Latina who was equally in denial until a few months ago."

"I wasn't in 'denial'…was I?" Santana pouted.

"You wouldn't even talk about the topic of 'us' until I forced it," Brittany reminded.

Santana sunk down further under the covers, enjoying the feeling of Brittany's body pushed against hers, "Well…I'm very glad you did…cause _this_ is so worth everything else."

Brittany tilted her head upward to kiss Santana on the side of her neck, "I'm glad to hear you say that, honey."

"Something else happened tonight…," Santana started, tightening her grip around Brittany.

"Geez…how much else can happen in one day?" Brittany said with a mixture of exhaustion and exasperation.

"I ran into my dad at the hospital."

"Oh…," the blonde looked up at her, asking cautiously, "…was it awkward?"

"Not awkward…I realized though that I don't feel much of anything for him anymore," Santana confided to her love.

"What did he say?" Brittany asked.

"That he would never accept me being gay."

"I'm sorry, hon," Brittany grimaced without looking back up at Santana's face, resting her head on her chest.

"Don't be…it's his loss," Santana said matter-of-factly, kissing Brittany on the top of her head.

Brittany smiled widely though Santana couldn't see her. Hearing her girlfriend's self-confidence return made her heart soar.

"I love you," Brittany told Santana, cuddling further into her.

Santana smiled, proud of herself, "I love you too, babe."

_**I'm trying to tell you somethin' about my life**_

_**Maybe give me insight between black and white**_

_**And the best thing you've ever done for me**_

_**Is to help me take my life less seriously,**_

_**It's only life after all…**_

_**Well, darkness has a hunger that's insatiable**_

_**And lightness has a call that's hard to hear**_

_**I wrap my fear around me like a blanket**_

_**I sailed my ship of safety 'til I sank it,**_

_**Now I'm crawling on your shores…**_

_**And I went to the doctor, I went to the mountains**_

_**I looked to the children, I drank from the fountains**_

_**There's more than one answer to these questions, **_

_**Pointing me in a crooked line**_

_**And the less I seek my source for some definitive…**_

_**The closer I am to fine.**_

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note<strong>: The songs referenced in this chapter are _A Thousand Years_ sung by Christina Perri, _And So It Goes_ by Billy Joel, and _Closer To Fine_ by The Indigo Girls.

Please let me know what you think of this chapter and your thoughts on the way things played out at the hospital. It ended up being quite difficult to write it the way I saw it in my head. Fingers crossed that I was at least somewhat successful!

Oh, and let me know what you think of my interpretation of Brittany and Santana's "first time". I love hearing from each of you! Thank you again for continuing to read my story. Kim


	22. Chapter 22

**Author's note**: Dear anonymous reviewer named "Anne",

Thank you so very much for your highly-trivializing, yet not-at-all-constructive, critique of Her Smile Heals Me. I found it to be thoroughly-calculated and ever so edifying. No element of my story or my ability as a writer was left unscathed. Brava!

I would, however, like to take this opportunity (since this is my story, and I can feel free to do so) to respond. Hopefully, my other readers will either skip over this or indulge me a moment, seeing that our dearest "Anne" chose to hide behind an anonymous signature when leaving such a meticulous, albeit caustic, review.

Firstly, I, like you, have always found it to be true that, should you have _**nothing**_ positive to say, be sure to say it boldly and at length. Therefore, I completely understand your motivation for leaving your review. Secondly, I, too, despise reading about people who are not exactly like me. Stretching my imagination and exposure about the world around me becomes so tiresome after multiple chapters.

It is nearly inconceivable, is it not, that four lesbians and one bi-sexual would befriend each other within the confines of a single town? I mean, let us get true to life for a brief moment here. Whenever my best friend and her partner meet up with me and my female date for a movie, that is only four lesbians, but no bi-sexual, who are present. Your keen eye saw through my plot-hole, so thank you for taking the time to point it out to other readers. Further, I will be sure to ask my best friend to leave her partner at home the next time we hang out socially, since, as you astutely pointed out, that is just **too many** lesbians.

Thirdly, I want to applaud you for reading all twenty chapters of my story before realizing you did not want to read about a rape story-line that was established in **chapter one**, and you are correct, "Anne", rape is very sad. Depression is very sad too. Having homophobic parents is truly sad. Grappling with one's sexuality is stressful and sad. Suicide is also very sad. Struggling with vices such as smoking, drinking, and drug abuse is also quite sad. Is it not wonderful that there are none of those silly issues to be dealt with in real life?

Fourthly, I am indebted to you for forging ahead through all the gloom and depravity present in Her Smile Heals Me so that you would have the information you needed to sensibly point out that there was **too much sex** in my story. Readers, please pause a moment to thank "Anne" for reminding us that girls who have sex five times in sixty days is excessive. This is 2012 remember, not the 1960s. We're past the age of free love so there are societal expectations for proper sexual behavior and limitations. Oh, and on that note, please allow me to remind each and every one of you to always practice safe sex: at home…_alone_…but not more than three times a month.

So, in conclusion, dearest "Anne", I truly appreciate your attempt to trudge through a story you clearly had a problem with from the beginning. Reader dedication such as yours is respectable, and surrendering another few minutes of your life in order to leave a snarky, anonymous review is inspiring. I am so glad to know the ten months of my life which I have dedicated to writing Her Smile Heals Me has not been in vain. However, I do apologize for offending your sensibilities. Since I am not in a position to refund your money, being that you read my story **free of charge**, please allow me to offer this helpful hint for your future reading enjoyment: **M** stands for **Mature**. There are plenty of fanfictions available for your reading satisfaction which bear lower ratings such as T for Teen or K for People Like "Anne". I would suggest you stick with those stories next time. Warning: there may be lesbians involved, since Santana is a lesbian. Hopefully though, those authors have a much better handle on the proper number of lesbians to be included in one story. Again, I apologize for that _**creativity**_ infraction.

I will be rather pleased if you venture back to this update to read this response to you. Should you have other comments or instructions on writing to offer me, I will certainly be elated to read them, if only for the entertainment value. However, if you never read this, so be it, I will be equally-elated to know that you will continue through life as surely the most dull, judgmental, sexually- disadvantaged reader I have ever had. :)

Rainbows, unicorns, and an excessive amount of sweet-lady kisses,

Kim (mamatots)

* * *

><p><strong>Her Smile Heals Me (part 22)<strong>

Rachel Berry rolled over in bed, waking slightly when her right arm didn't move with the rest of her body, flopping heavily from numbness. She woke even more when she heard what sounded like soft crying coming from the lump in the covers next to her. It took a moment for her senses to return enough to remember the emotional pandemonium from a few hours earlier then another moment to remember the fact that Quinn Fabray lay next to her in bed.

Her voice thick with fresh sleep, Rachel acknowledged the blonde next to her, "Quinn?"

Rachel heard sniffs in the dark but no verbal response, so she reached a hand out to place on Quinn's shoulder, asking her, "Are you okay?"

Quinn answered with a shaky voice, "Yeah…sorry if I woke you."

"You didn't…you sound really upset though," Rachel told her, closing the distance between them and putting her chin on Quinn's shoulder and hugging her from behind.

Silence.

"Hey…everything's going to be okay now…right?" Rachel was unsure of exactly what to say.

Unexpectedly, Quinn turned over and put her arms around Rachel, sobbing.

The petite brunette hugged her tightly until her tears slowed.

"I've lost so much in my life," Quinn choked out.

"I know, Quinn," Rachel validated, immediately thinking of Quinn's baby, and her parents reaction to her untimely pregnancy, and now…_Cate_.

Quinn pulled away quickly, modest about her loss of decorum, and sat up in the bed, pulling her knees up to her chest, saying, "I'm really sorry."

"Don't be…," Rachel sat up too, trying to reassure her, "…I want so much to be your friend."

Quinn paused, her circumstances and surroundings hitting her like a ton of bricks. _Am I really sitting in Rachel Berry's bed, crying over my girlfriend_, she thought. The blonde shook her head to clear it before looking over at the Glee Club diva who had always been such a thorn in her side, realizing in this moment how much life could morph when you're not paying close attention. "You _are_, Rachel."

"Really?" she asked quietly.

"Surprisingly…yes," Quinn smiled slightly which could be seen in the cascade of moonlight coming through Rachel's bedroom window, shining directly onto the bed. Quinn wasn't sure if she had grown as a person lately or if Rachel had softened or both, but Quinn was seeing the tiny brunette in a different capacity since their junior year ended. With these thoughts, Quinn added, "I consider you a very good friend, Rachel."

"Can I ask you a question then?"

"I think you just did," Quinn had to let out a laugh, knowing it was never a good thing when Rachel was curious.

"Another question then," Rachel smiled.

"Okay…go ahead."

"Are you a lesbian?"

"Why? Would that make too many lesbians?" Quinn inquired light-heartedly.

"No, of course not…that's absurd…there's no set number that I'm aware of," Rachel giggled, trying to make light of any awkwardness, "I'm just sort of…surprised…is all."

"Nobody is more surprised than I am, Rachel…," Quinn answered bluntly, "…but why are _you_ surprised?"

"I'm not sure really," Rachel shrugged, "You fought so hard for Finn."

"I thought Finn was what I needed in my life…at the time."

"You never thought you might be _before_ you met Cate?" Rachel asked for clarification.

"I knew there was an emptiness inside me that I couldn't seem to fill…but, until I met Cate, I didn't know what it was that was missing."

"But…now you know?"

"Now I see everything more clearly…," Quinn tried her best to explain what she'd struggled to understand herself in the past few days, "…I was only seeing in black and white…but now that I've opened my mind…and my heart…there's so much color in the world that I never saw before."

"I'm happy for you, Quinn," Rachel said sincerely, "You deserve good things."

"So do you, Rachel…don't let anything…or _anyone_…hold you back…okay?" Quinn returned the sentiment, "…because you are destined for greatness…I truly believe that."

"I want to hug you again," Rachel smiled broadly.

"Even though now you know I'm a lesbian?" Quinn joked.

Rachel laughed and reached to pull Quinn toward her into an embrace. "Thank you, Quinn…for the encouragement you've always given me."

Quinn squeezed back, stating genuinely, "Thank _you_, Rachel…for your support."

* * *

><p>Mrs. Pierce pulled off the main street into the parking lot in front of Dr. Shane's office, coming to a stop near the entrance door but not parking.<p>

Santana slid open the back passenger door of the blue Sienna and stepped out, followed closely by Brittany.

"Where are you going?" Santana turned to ask.

"With you," Brittany stated as though it were obvious.

"Oh no…not this time…," Santana stepped around the tall blonde to open the front passenger door, motioning for her to get in, "…I'll be fine…and _you_ have an appointment too."

"For what?" Brittany asked, confused, climbing into the front seat because she was being politely pushed by the Latina.

Mrs. Pierce spoke up, "A doctor's appointment…for your stomach issues."

"How did you know about that?" Brittany looked at her mom.

"Your girlfriend loves you very much," her mom told her with a smile, leaning slightly to give a quick wink to Santana.

Brittany turned back toward Santana with a raised brow and a tilt of her head, "I'm fine."

"And after you see your doctor…we'll know for sure," Santana said firmly.

Brittany reached outward for the door then paused to place a kiss on Santana's cheek, whispering near her ear, "We'll talk about this later."

"I love you too," Santana mouthed as she helped the door shut, waving goodbye.

Once the van drove out of sight, Santana looked at her watch. 10:53 am. She walked into the building to find her mother waiting patiently in the lobby.

"Mom?" Santana acknowledged her.

Mrs. Lopez looked up from the magazine she was reading and smiled, closing it and standing. She walked over to her daughter and hugged her tightly, "You look better today, sweetheart."

"I've been drinking more fluids…and eating…slowly, but still…that's good, right?"

"Anything's an improvement," her mother said encouragingly.

"Dad didn't come with you," Santana noted sadly.

"Not this time, dear…," Mrs. Lopez confirmed, "…but…he did send these." The older Latina pulled something from her pants pocket, holding it up for Santana to see.

The young brunette instantly recognized the tiny red megaphone dangling from the set of keys. "My car keys?" she said, confused.

"He said you will be responsible for the insurance and maintenance…but he will pay the note for you."

Santana paused to ponder that offer then said matter-of-factly, "Keep them…I don't want the car."

"Santana…your father is being generous," Mrs. Lopez had a look of complete surprise at her daughter's reaction.

"Maybe…but I don't want his money…," Santana said with confidence.

"Why?" her mother could not understand, "…because it comes with conditions?"

"No…because it comes with _judgment_…and I don't need that sort of poison in my life…I'm having a hard enough time with stuff inside my own head."

A voice from behind them called out, "Ladies? Are you ready?"

Santana turned to see Dr. Shane standing near the door to her office. The teen smiled, internally grateful for the interruption, and answered, "Yes."

Dr. Shane politely ushered the mother and daughter into her cozy office, pointing to the chairs side by side when she said, "Please…have a seat."

Santana allowed her mom to sit in the more comfortable, leather chair, and she sat to her right in the doctor's desk chair, crossing her legs at the knees.

Both Latinas fidgeted in quiet as the doctor scribbled some quick notations on the tablet in her lap. The psychiatrist watched the two of them over the top of her reading glasses, observing how similar mother and daughter were to each other in appearance and mannerisms. They both looked down at their hands, rubbing the thumb of their left hands with the thumb and index fingers of their right hands.

Dr. Shane paused and looked up, remarking, "There seems to be some tension between the two of you right now?"

Neither responded.

"I reviewed your medical records and consulted over the phone with Dr. Westin," the psychiatrist informed them, "How are you feeling today, Santana?"

"Better, thank you," the young brunette looked up and smiled.

"Our last session together did not end on a very positive note…how do you feel about returning today?"

"I'm doing better…I've taken my medicine regularly the last few days…I'm not as paranoid about things…or _people_," Santana answered truthfully, looking back down.

"Am I…'people'?" her mother asked directly.

"I'm glad you're here today, Mom," Santana said, reaching over to cover her mother's hand with her own.

Mrs. Lopez squeezed it and smiled.

"Santana…is there anything you want to say to your mother?"

"Yes…Mom…," Santana turned toward her, tucking one of her legs up under her in the chair, "…I'm moving back in with the Berrys today…I hope you'll understand…and support my decision."

"Until the end of summer?"

"Until I graduate…at least."

"I see…," Mrs. Lopez responded, her disappointment showing.

"Can you understand why Santana would want to live with the Berry family?" Dr. Shane interjected, trying to facilitate discussion.

"Yes, I can…I know living with your father…and me…under the circumstances…isn't the best for any of us right now," she said sadly, "I wish I could change that, Santana…I do…but I can't control your father's opinions."

"What about your opinions, Mom?"

"What do you mean?"

"I know you're trying…and I appreciate it so much…but what do you _really_ think? About me?"

"About you…?"

"About me being a lesbian? Because I'm always going to be a lesbian…that will never change."

Mrs. Lopez glanced nervously at Dr. Shane then back at Santana, "Yes, I…I know."

"But you hate that…don't you?"

"I love _you_, Santana."

"But you hate what I am…otherwise you'd just say it."

"Say what?"

Santana looked over at her psychiatrist, who watched the exchange between mother and daughter silently. "I see the way she glances away any time Brittany and I show affection toward each other," Santana told Dr. Shane. She turned again toward her mother, "Do you not think that affects me? Do you think I don't feel judged by you too?"

"I want you to find happiness, Santana…I want you to be _loved_…any mother wants that for her child…but to tell you that it doesn't make me uncomfortable that you're…," Mrs. Lopez trailed off.

"You can't even say the word, can you?" Santana quietly challenged, her voice thick with hurt.

"What is it you want to hear me say, Santana?"

"I want to hear you acknowledge my sexuality!"

"I do…," Mrs. Lopez stressed to Santana then turn to Dr. Shane to emphasize, "I do."

The young Latina took a deep breath before requesting, "Then say…'My daughter is a lesbian'."

Her mother just looked at her, making it difficult for Santana to know what her thoughts were.

"Say it…please?" Santana pleaded for this simple act of acceptance from her mother.

Mrs. Lopez sighed heavily, seeing the desperation in the eyes of her only child, then she said devotedly, "My daughter is a lesbian…and…I love her with all my heart."

Santana hugged her mother tightly, warm tears escaping the corners of her eyes, "Thank you, Mom…that means everything to me."

"I don't want to lose you again, mija," the older Latina told Santana, "I want you to learn to trust me."

Santana pulled back, responding, "It's not that I don't trust you."

"But you don't tell me _anything_ about yourself anymore…like the night you were raped…why wouldn't you feel safe coming to me…I'm your mother…why wouldn't you let me help you."

Santana looked over at Dr. Shane who gave her an encouraging smile and slight nod of her head.

The compassionate psychiatrist could see that the teen's demeanor altered and her body tensed. The doctor saw Santana start rubbing her thumb again with her right hand in an almost self-soothing manner.

"Santana?" Dr. Shane prodded.

The younger Latina only looked down at her lap and shifted again in her seat to re-cross her legs.

"Talking about your rape is very difficult for you, I know…," the doctor validated, "…but your mother is here today in an effort to help you with healing…is it possible for you to push yourself a little further…to open up to her?"

"I'm embarrassed," Santana said, hardly lifting her head, not making eye-contact.

"I could tell you that there is nothing to be embarrassed about, Santana…but, in actuality, rape is a _very_ degrading act, isn't it?"

Santana nodded, and her mother reached over and took her hand again.

"Although the discussion is very sensitive, Santana…it is important that we continue to remind you that there is nothing shameful about what happened to you…and talking about it helps to remove that notion of shame."

"I am ashamed though," the teen swallowed hard, tears forming in her dark brown eyes.

"Is that why you hid this at first?" her mother asked.

Santana nodded again. "I didn't want you to know I got myself in that situation."

"I would never think it was your fault, Santana," her mother assured her.

"I've done things…I'm not proud of, Mom."

"Nobody's perfect, dear," Mrs. Lopez said tenderly.

"But…it's just that…I didn't want you to know how un-perfect I really am," Santana confessed, a wet stream of tears rolled down both cheeks as her voice cracked.

"Oh, honey…," Mrs. Lopez put her arms around her daughter's shoulders.

A hush fell over the room. Dr. Shane watched as the teenager broke in front of her mother. The doctor leaned forward to offer her a tissue from a box she took off her small side table, holding it up until Santana removed two of them. The psychiatrist then pointed the box toward Mrs. Lopez who was also emotional.

"Thank you," Mrs. Lopez said, taking a white tissue and dabbing at her eyes.

As the doctor settled back in her leather seat, she said, "Santana…I realize that you are struggling with your role in what happened the night of your prom…but there is no portion of your rape that you are responsible for…your attacker could have…_should_ have…stopped at any point before he did what he did to you."

Santana sniffed hard and blew out a shaky breath, "He wants to meet with me."

"What? I did not know of this," Mrs. Lopez spoke up.

"How do you feel about seeing him again?" Dr. Shane asked, holding up her hand to politely wave off Mrs. Lopez's interruption.

"Scared…sick to my stomach…," Santana confessed, more tears falling from her eyes, "…but I just want it all to be over."

"And you feel as though it will end if you meet with him?"

"Yes…because he said he would confess if I did…but it just seems like he's violating me all over again…making me do something I don't want to do."

"What good could possibly come from this meeting?" her mother asked Dr. Shane.

The doctor took a deep breath, contemplating an answer, then put down her pen on the notepad in her lap before responding, "Other patients I've treated who were victims of violent attacks have told me it felt emotionally cathartic…cleansing for them…to confront their attacker…to look them in the face and claim back what was taken from them."

"So like…make it about _me_ rather than about him?"

"Is that something you feel you could do?" the doctor asked protectively.

Santana nodded, "Yeah…I think maybe I could."

* * *

><p>Brittany pulled off Santana's sandal and dropped it over the side of the bed to land with the other one then she started massaging the ball of her right foot.<p>

"There?" she asked the Latina.

"Yes…oww…I don't know why those shoes always end up hurting my feet," she said, her eyes closed, enjoying the massage and the physical closeness of her beloved.

"Because you have a high arch…and your feet got used to wearing sneakers for so long with our Cheerios uniforms…," the blonde informed her, "…those sandals have no arch support."

Santana opened her eyes, furrowing her brow, "How do you know all that?"

"I'm a dancer…I know feet." Brittany smiled and winked, "Go on…finish telling me about your session."

"Well, so…I got a new prescription for my anxiety and depression…and Mom took me to get it filled before she brought me home."

"That's good, honey," Brittany said excitedly, moving up to lay next to Santana, "Right?"

"It'll take time to adjust to it…so please be patient with me, ok?"

"Of course…have you ever known me not to be patient?" Brittany teased.

"Well…there are times when you are quite impatient," Santana teased back, running a playful hand across Brittany's center, applying a soft pressure against the denim of her shorts.

"Oh…well…if you're talking about _that_…then yes…I can be very impatient," Brittany giggled as her body involuntarily folded into Santana's stimulating touch.

"What did your doctor tell you?" the Latina paused their tantalizing playfulness in order to inquire.

"About that…you went to my mom behind my back," Brittany raised her eyebrows and a serious expression spread across her freckled-face, "Why?"

Santana ran a soft caress along Brittany's jawline, telling her simply, "Because I love you…and I know you worry so much about me that you forget to think of yourself."

"I do worry about you, that's true," Brittany agreed.

"Then you need somebody to worry about you in return," Santana smiled, kissing her softly, "So…what did your doctor say, Britt?"

"Oh nothing…," Brittany sat up, biting at the fingernail on her right middle finger, "…I'm as healthy as a horse."

"Uhuh," Santana sat up too, pulling Brittany's hand from her mouth, "What did he really say? Cause I know you would never lie to me."

The blonde let out a deep sigh. "That I need to 'de-stress' or I'm going to develop an ulcer."

Santana grimaced, pausing to reflect a moment. "What can we do for fun? To 'de-stress' our lives?"

"This?" Brittany leaned into Santana and kissed her deeply, running her hand along the inside of her thigh, her fingertips sneaking up under the hem of her shorts.

"Tempting…," Santana smiled broadly, "…but I'm being serious, babe…we need to do something to clear our heads."

"My mom mentioned today that we're taking a trip to the beach in a couple of weeks…we're meeting up with my aunt and uncle…," Brittany suddenly sounded excited as she thought aloud, "…come with us…I know they won't mind…you've gone with us before."

"I didn't go as your _girlfriend_ those times," Santana was more hesitant than the blonde.

"I'll ask them…I can be pretty convincing," she said matter-of-factly.

"Yes…yes, you can," Santana agreed with a wide grin.

Brittany smiled a smile only she could make, and all of Santana's worries melted away instantly.

There was a firm knock on the bedroom door.

"Come in," Santana said loudly, expecting it to be Rachel, so she was surprised when Kurt opened the door and stuck in his head.

"Hola!"

"Hey there!" Brittany and Santana both greeted him enthusiastically.

"You look fantastic," Kurt said animatedly, approaching the bed and kissing Santana then Brittany on their cheeks.

"You're lying through your pearly-white teeth," Santana chided good-naturedly.

"You're right…," he continued to smile, adding with a broad hand gesture, "…but even on your worse day…you still look gorgeous."

"I always knew I liked you," Santana winked.

"So you guys are needed downstairs in the basement," Kurt grabbed them each by the hand, "Pronto!"

"Why?" Brittany asked climbing off the bed while being gently pulled by Kurt.

"Because we're having game night…and the more the merrier."

* * *

><p>"Ok…science and nature…," Finn read from the small card in his hand, "…what is the only left-handed animal?"<p>

"The polar bear," Brittany answered quickly.

"Correct," Finn confirmed, "Collect your green pie."

"Yay, BritBrit!" Santana cheered as Brittany beamed and high-fived her.

"How do you know these things?" Kurt asked in dismay as he dug around in a clear, plastic baggie to pull out a tiny, green wedge, handing it to Brittany.

The blonde smiled and shrugged, "I don't know…I pick up things when I watch Animal Planet on the weekends with Emily."

Kurt looked dumbfounded and grimaced toward Rachel who just smiled and shook her head.

"Brittany is smart, you guys…she's just…you know…ninja smart…without you even realizing it," Santana lovingly defended, picking up the dice and leaning forward to roll then move her game piece around the Trivial Pursuit board.

"Britt…you told me once that the square root of four is rainbows," Kurt shook his head in confusion, rolling his eyes toward Blaine who sat on the floor next to him in the circle of friends.

"And you believed me?" Brittany smiled innocently.

"Wait, it's not?" Finn asked, furrowing his brow.

Rachel patted him on the shoulder before rolling her eyes and taking the box of questions from him.

"Ok, Rach…ask me a pink question," Santana focused their attention back to the game.

Rachel pulled a card from the box then read the question aloud, "Who is the top-selling artist of all-time?"

"I know this!" Santana said excitedly, "The Beatles…duh."

"That is right," Rachel told her.

"Yay me," the taller brunette celebrated her successful answer, receiving a congratulatory kiss on the lips by Brittany who was seated to her right.

"You two are cheating," Kurt challenged with frustration, motioning toward the board and the two game pieces with several colorful wedges among the other game pieces with one or two wedges each.

"How?" Brittany laughed.

"Yeah…you came and got us…," Santana laughed, enjoying the way the game was going so far and standing up from the circle to walk over to the counter of the bar, "You want another slice of pizza, hon?"

Brittany nodded.

"Ladies…I think our fellows here underestimate just how clever the female brain is…," Rachel added, appreciating that she at least had the third-most correct questions, even though, internally, she hated losing.

"Oh whatever…," Blaine laughed, "You all get questions about polar bears and Funny Girl…and I get 'Who was the 1988 gold medalist for women's figure skating?'"

"How did you _not_ know that was Katerina Witt, dear?" Kurt said with extreme disappointment, putting his face into his open palm.

"Um…because, dear… I wasn't _alive_ then?" Blaine retorted.

"Minor technicality…every gay man should be able to list the women's figure skating gold medalists…it's like not knowing what year Judy Garland died…," Kurt surmised, looking at his boyfriend who clearly did not know that information either, "…are you kidding me? 1969, Blaine."

"I knew that…," Blaine grimaced, shrugging toward the rest of the group of friends, "…no seriously, June…1969."

"June 22nd…1969, to be exact," Rachel added, looking up at Santana who stepped back over to the group to sit down, "You should probably learn that."

"Why? Just because I'm gay?" Santana rolled her eyes at Brittany as she handed the blonde a slice of pepperoni pizza on a paper napkin.

"Noooo…because you live _here_ now," Rachel winked.

"Ok, Judy Garland…who cares…Finn, roll please," Santana directed the tall teen next to her.

"Even _I_ knew that, dude…," Finn said deadpanned to the handsome brunette male across the circle from him, rolling the dice and moving his game piece three spaces.

Blaine just shook his head in response.

Rachel smiled widely and nodded, pleased with the confirmation that Finn actually listened during her power-point presentation on "Hollywood, The Golden Era".

"So who is going to the river for the Fourth of July fireworks Tuesday night?" Brittany asked, sensing a change of topic was needed.

"You know…I've never been to that," Blaine offered, turning to Kurt next to him, "We should go."

"We should _all_ go," Rachel said excitedly, "Let's get everyone from Glee Club to go…that would be so much fun!"

"Yeah…that sounds pretty cool actually," Finn agreed, "I haven't been since summer after freshman year."

"I remember that…you went with Quinn…right?" Brittany replied, thinking back to that summer and the memory that flashed in her head, causing her to turn toward Santana with a knowing smile.

Santana smiled back at Brittany, knowing what she must be thinking, seeing Brittany's fair skin flush slightly. A deep heat instantly moved through Santana's entire body, settling in her groin, and her heart fluttered slightly as she remembered the first time she and Brittany made love.

"I would love that…let's do it!" Blaine smiled.

Rachel picked up her pink, bedazzled cell phone, "I'll send a text to everyone right now!"

* * *

><p>Cate gingerly rolled from her side to her back, grimacing as a pain shot through the right side of her ribcage. She took as deep a breath as she could without triggering another jolt of pain, opening her eyes to find a beautiful blonde with uniquely-green eyes, smiling back at her.<p>

"Hey," Cate smiled too, soothed immediately to find Quinn sitting in a chair at her bedside, reading a book, "Whatcha reading?"

Quinn lifted up the book she held in her lap so Cate could see the cover, "_The Girl Who Played with Fire_…I picked it up earlier today."

"Oh cool, so you finished The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo?" Cate asked with a huge smile.

"Yes…and I loved it as much as you said I would," Quinn said as she slid her bookmark in between the pages she'd been reading then closed the book and set it on the side table next to Cate's hospital bed.

"I knew you would…now we can see the movie when it's released…I can't wait to see Rooney Mara on the big screen," Cate told her, "She's totally hot in the movie trailer."

Quinn was suddenly quiet, and she got up, busying herself with checking Cate's water pitcher. Finding it empty, she turned to the in-room sink and filled it with cold water, replacing the lid and setting it back down on the table next to Cate's bed.

"Did I say something wrong?" the brunette asked her, catching her by the forearm as she passed again by the bed, "Quinn?"

"Everything's fine," the blonde teen tried to convince the older girl, wiping quickly at moisture that was collected in the corners of her eyes.

"You don't look fine," Cate frowned, the bridge of her nose looking more bluish-purple this night than the night before and the larger piece of gauze over her eye was replaced now with two butterfly-closure strips.

The younger girl sat back down in the bed-side chair and sighed heavily, feeling more and more ridiculous with every emotional breakdown she continued to have.

"Quinn?" Cate prompted softly, "Talk to me, sweetheart."

"You've been so excited about that damn movie…ever since you loaned me that book," Quinn laughed slightly at herself.

Cate's eyes narrowed, "I don't get it? I thought you said you liked it?"

"I did."

"You don't like Rooney Mara?" Cate tried to joke, "Is it the piercings? The mohawk?"

Quinn laughed more, despite a tear escaping down her face, thinking of Puck's bad-boy image, probably the only thing she could say attracted her to him, "No, I like mohawks actually."

Cate pulled Quinn by the wrist, motioning her to climb into the hospital bed beside her, "Tell me what you're thinking."

Quinn settled into the bed, wrapping her arms around Cate's long, thin frame, careful not to pull on any of her tubes or wires. She laid her head on the older girl's chest, breathing in her familiar scent, letting Cate's closeness help compose her emotions.

"I'm thinking that if you had gotten yourself killed on that damn motorcycle…and I had to go see that movie without you…I'd be so pissed off at you," Quinn formed her thoughts into words as best she could.

Cate couldn't help but laugh even though it was excruciating, "I love you so much."

Quinn smiled, "I love you too."

The two lay together quietly for several minutes before Quinn asked matter-of-factly, "So do I need to get a piercing for you to think I'm 'totally hot'?"

"What?" Cate laughed more, looking down at Quinn who looked up at her.

"You seem to like girls who are pierced is all."

"Oh, Quinn Fabray…you could not be more _hot_ than you were the other night…," Cate kissed her on the forehead, "…even if you got a _hundred_ piercings."

"I wouldn't even know where to start to put a hundred piercings," Quinn found that idea amusing.

"Well, you would definitely have to get creative with placement," Cate smiled then leaned in to kiss the blonde firmly on the lips.

"Who knows…I may surprise you one day…and just show up with one."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah…really…then you'd have to go hunting for it," Quinn teased.

"Oh really?" Cate repeated with a sexy tone to her voice, "I'm up for that challenge."

Quinn ran her hand up Cate's neck, pulling her into a more passionate kiss, until the brunette pulled back, saying with a playful frown, "Oww…my nose…okay, maybe I'm not quite up for the challenge…_yet._"

* * *

><p>Brittany sat on the floor of Santana's room folding and organizing her suitcase as Santana lay on her stomach on the foot of the bed, watching her.<p>

"I'm going to miss you tomorrow night," the Latina said sadly.

Brittany folded a pair of denim shorts and stacked them on top of some light blue, cotton shorts. She paused and looked up at her girlfriend's gloomy face, telling her, "I know, honey…I'll miss you too…but my mom wants me to come home for a few days."

"Yeah, I know…I understand...you need to spend time with your family."

Brittany shifted to sit up on her knees so she was face to face with Santana. She kissed her lovingly on the cheek then on the lips, cupping her chin in her hand, "You _are_ my family, Santana Lopez…don't ever think you're not."

Santana smiled broadly. Her big, brown eyes had a return of her former sparkle which was not lost on Brittany, giving the blonde even more hope that things were slowly returning to normal for them.

"Do you know what I was thinking about tonight?" the Latina asked.

"What?" Brittany ran a soft touch down Santana's bare arm.

"Fourth of July," Santana stated cryptically.

"Yes…?"

"Two years ago."

"Uhuh…?"

"Fireworks…," Santana narrowed her eyes as her lips curled into a sexy smirk.

"Down at the river?" Brittany tilted her head, doing her best to blithely play innocent.

"Well…I recall us making some fireworks of our own…_before_ the river," the Latina purred.

Brittany inched closer to the bed, leaning into Santana's neck, whispering with hot breath into her ear, "Uhuh...I definitely saw lots of colors that night."

"Me too," Santana tilted her head to kiss Brittany, the Latina's tanned-fingers tangling in her long, blonde locks.

"I loved you very much then…did you know that?" Brittany asked breathlessly, breaking away from their intense kiss.

"I was never sure…and I was too afraid to ask," Santana confessed.

"I should have told you…but I didn't want to make you uncomfortable," the blonde said honestly.

"I loved you with all my being…," Santana said boldly, "…especially that night."

"Yeah…I know…," Brittany confirmed, looking deep into Santana's eyes, "…it was written all over your face."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note<strong>: Thank you for continuing to read my story and for your patience in between each update. I tried to give you guys some light-hearted scenes in this chapter, since the last several updates have been quite emotional and intense. I hope you enjoyed the playful side of Brittany and Santana and of Quinn and Cate. I threw in a Faberry scene for everyone who adores that pairing (including me). I also hope my lovely Klaine-shippers enjoyed a brief visit by those two.

This story will be ending soon, so start to prepare yourselves for that in the next three or so chapters. Let me know what you think about the idea of a sequel, future!Brittana, set several years later.

As always, please let me know what you think about this chapter or the story overall. Your **constructive** comments and questions are invaluable to me as I write these chapters. But, as a side note, thank you for allowing me some space at the beginning of this update to address one reviewer who was extremely harsh and somewhat unfair in her assessment of HSHM. I found my response to be very cathartic! Love you guys, Kim


	23. Chapter 23

**Her Smile Heals Me (part 23)**

**Friday, July 1, 2011**

"Good morning, sunshine," Daniel Berry said as he stepped off the staircase and passed Rachel sitting at the dining room table. He paused briefly to kiss her on the cheek, adding, "Are those blueberry muffins?"

"Dad made them before he left," the petite brunette confirmed, taking a sip of her coffee.

"He went into the shop awfully early today," Daniel commented. He vaguely remembered his partner saying something about a big shipment of yellow roses being delivered to their flower shop that morning for a wedding he was doing on Sunday. Trey was originally from Texas, his family having moved to Ohio when he was eight, so he had been particularly excited to have a client doing a big Yellow Rose of Texas-themed reception to celebrate her southern roots.

"Yes, he's got that big reception on Sunday…remember?" Rachel poured more coffee into her nearly-empty cup then pushed the carafe toward her father.

"The reception as big as Texas, right?" her father acknowledged with a small laugh, pouring himself a cup of coffee and pulling the front section from the newspaper on the table before sitting down at the far end.

"Everything _is_ supposed to be bigger in Texas," Rachel shared his laugh.

"Even budgets apparently," Daniel winked at his bright-eyed daughter, noting, "Are you leaving out soon?"

"Finn's driving me to work this morning so we can have lunch together," she answered, pulling one of her short legs up under her in the dining room chair, "I'll be back home after that."

"How has he liked working at Burt's shop this summer?" Daniel inquired over the top of the newspaper.

"He likes it…I think he really enjoys learning about cars from Burt…he hasn't had that father-figure in his life," Rachel stated, "I think it means more to him than just a paycheck."

"Burt's a great man…I've always liked him," Daniel took a sip of coffee, setting the cup back on the table before saying, "I think it was good for Santana to work with him too."

"Kurt told her last night that Burt asked about her…he said for her to stop by and talk to him sometime," Rachel informed him.

"That's great…I hope she'll follow through…Santana needs something like that."

"I need something like what?" Santana asked, walking up on the conversation with Brittany close behind her.

"Like working with Burt," Daniel told her, "He's a strong role model."

"Yeah, I wish all fathers were like you guys and Burt," Santana said flatly, standing behind the chair that sat at the opposite end from Daniel. Shaking off the internal disappointment she felt about her own father, she switched topics, saying, "Daniel…I've made a decision."

Brittany moved around Santana and sat in the chair across the table from Rachel, reaching for a muffin, peeling it to remove the paper cup around its bottom.

"About…?" Daniel asked for clarification.

"Karofsky," Santana stated bluntly, a shiver moving through her body just at having to say his name aloud.

"Okay…what did you decide?"

"Tell him…I'll do it."

"What? San…no…," Rachel spoke up, "…you can't give into him like that…you've come so far…Dad, tell her this is not a good idea."

"Rachel…this is not your decision," Daniel held up his hand to silence her protest, "If that's what you want to do, Santana…then I'll call ADA Cole when I get to the office and let him know."

"She doesn't want to do this though…," Rachel spoke again with a desperate tone, "…I can read it in her face…she's only doing this because she thinks she _has_ to do it…she's letting him violate her all over again."

Santana looked down at the wood of the chair under the scrutiny of Rachel's verbal protests.

"Somebody say something…," the smaller brunette looked around the table at her father then back at Santana then at Brittany, "…Brittany?"

The silent blonde looked up from her bite of muffin. "What?"

"Speak up here…you're her girlfriend…she listens to you…tell her this is a terrible idea!"

"Rachel…," Daniel tried to interject.

"No, she's just sitting there…not saying anything to try to help," Rachel rationalized, "I know you love her…stop her from putting herself in a horrible situation that could trigger another decline."

Brittany swallowed her bite and calmly wiped her mouth with her napkin. "I do love her…so I trust her to know what she's capable of handling…and so should you."

Rachel settled back into her chair, glancing from Brittany to look up at Santana who still stood behind the end chair, her fingers clinched around the edge of its high back, affected by the tension.

"I'm trying to face my fears, Rachel…please support me," Santana said meekly.

Rachel nodded, saying, "Okay."

"Trey and I are both very proud of the progress you're making, Santana," Daniel smiled warmly.

The phone in Brittany's pants pocket chimed so she pulled it out and looked at the new text, saying, "I've gotta go…my mom's out front."

"I'll walk you to the door," Santana told her, turning to pick up Brittany suitcase from near the stairs and catching up to the tall blonde as she stood and said goodbye to Rachel and Daniel.

As the two of them reached the front door, Brittany turned around to see Santana look up at her with sadness in her big brown eyes. "It's not easy for me to leave you…you know that, right?"

"Go…I'll be strong," Santana smiled, trying to reassure her.

"You _are_strong," Brittany returned the smile and pulled something from her pocket. It was a white piece of paper she'd torn neatly from her journal, and she unfolded it before she handed it to Santana, telling her, "…but just in case you need a reminder in a moment of doubt…just read this…okay?"

Santana took the page from her, looking down at Brittany's uniquely printed handwriting that the Latina always found heartwarming. The page had a list on it, and she scanned down each one of them, her eyes stopping to linger over the last one: I love loving you.

"I wrote those down last week…when I didn't know where you were…and I told myself that if I ever got to see you again…I would be sure to show them to you so you'd never doubt what you mean to me," Brittany said sweetly, opening the front door and seeing her mom's van idling in the driveway.

Santana didn't answer but kept reading the message at the bottom of the page that Brittany added that morning:

_I know I'm not the smartest girl you'd meet, Santana. I may not always know the best thing to say or when to say it, but I do know you and I do know us. And I know what we have is true._

_I just wanted to tell you how devoted I am to you so that when you're feeling scared or fragile then maybe just knowing that will give you strength to keep trying._

_You are loved, Santana. Proudly so._

_Britt_

Both girls jumped slightly when the silence around them was interrupted with Mrs. Pierce's honk of the horn, trying to prompt Brittany's goodbye. Brittany looked over her shoulder to see her mom holding up her arm and pointing to her watch, signaling her need to get going.

"I better go…call me later," Brittany leaned down and kissed Santana's lips before stepping out on the front porch with her suitcase in hand.

"Britt…," Santana stopped her, and Brittany turned back around, her blue eyes sparkling. The brunette smiled a tight-lipped smile, holding back her emotions as much as she could under the circumstances. She held the sheet of paper to her chest, her heart overflowing, and said simply, "Thank you for this."

Brittany winked at her then ran out to the waiting Sienna, waving to Santana as she climbed into the passenger seat and closed the door behind her.

The Latina stepped out on the porch in her bare feet to wave back at Brittany, watching every feature of the blonde's face, soothed instantly by the broad smile across it, as Mrs. Pierce backed the blue van out of the driveway, and at that moment, everything in Santana's world came together to make perfect sense.

**_Her face is a map of the world,_**

**_Is a map of the world_**

**_You can see she's a beautiful girl,_**

**_She's a beautiful girl_**

**_And everything around her is a silver pool of light_**

**_The people who surround her feel the benefit of it_**

**_It makes you calm_**

**_She holds you captivated in her palm…_**

**_Suddenly I see_**

**_This is what I wanna be_**

**_Suddenly I see_**

**_Why the hell it means so much to me…_**

**_I feel like walking the world,_**

**_Like walking the world_**

**_You can hear she's a beautiful girl,_**

**_She's a beautiful girl_**

**_She fills up every corner like she's born in black and white_**

**_Makes you feel warmer when you're trying to remember_**

**_What you heard_**

**_She likes to leave you hanging on her word…_**

**_Suddenly I see_**

**_This is what I wanna be_**

**_Suddenly I see_**

**_Why the hell it means so much to me…_**

**_And she's taller than most_**

**_And she's looking at me_**

**_I can see her eyes looking from a page in a magazine_**

**_Oh she makes me feel like I could be a tower_**

**_A big strong tower_**

**_She's got the power to be_**

**_The power to give_**

**_The power to see…_**

**_Suddenly I see_**

**_This is what I wanna be_**

**_Suddenly I see_**

**_Why the hell it means so much to me._**

* * *

><p>"Chuck!" Santana shouted over the loud squeal of a power tool that the older man was using to fasten the last of several bolts on a tire.<p>

He looked up from a kneeling position by the rear of a car and smiled with recognition of the Latina.

"Where's Burt?" she asked.

The graying man motioned toward a white truck that was up on a lift in the far corner of the shop.

Santana thanked him and walked toward the back of the garage, circling around to the other side of the truck, looking for Burt Hummel.

"Santana!" the pudgy, middle-aged man exclaimed when he spotted her. He was demonstrating something to Finn and held a dirty air filter in his hand. He handed the filter to him then wiped his blackened hands on an even more blackened red rag he pulled from the back pocket of his mechanics jumpsuit. "Come here!" he said jovially, putting his arms around Santana's shoulders and squeezing her without touching her shirt with his dirty hands, "We've missed you around here."

"Yeah, I've missed being here…surprisingly," the young Latina smiled widely, "…and…I'm sorry, Burt…for abandoning my responsibilities around here…I'm sure you heard that I had sort of a…breakdown."

Burt looked up at Finn and told him, "Son…take a walk…go see what Chuck needs help with, k?"

Finn nodded compliance and stepped around the rear of the truck to disappear out of sight.

"So…sort of a breakdown, huh?" Burt looked at her in that wonderfully paternal way he always did with everyone.

"Well, not sort of…," Santana admitted, "…I fell apart."

"Yeah…I heard," Burt said, crossing his arms, "I also heard you're pulling it back together."

"I'm really trying, Burt…but I need a job again…I need money…," she stated upfront, her eyes pleading with him.

"You need money?"

"Well, I had some money…I was saving for something important…but I lost it all," Santana was embarrassed about the circumstances in which she found herself.

Burt stared at the Latina suspiciously, trying to force eye contact, realizing how exposed she was in her request. "You lost it, eh? You got a gambling problem too? You been betting on the ponies?" he winked at her which made her laugh in response.

She glanced down when she answered, "No…nothing like that…I'm trying to start over here…and I've got something I need to pay off soon."

"Uhuh…well, do you think you can commit this time?" he asked bluntly.

"Definitely," Santana stated with determination.

"Well, I believe in second chances…and I believe in you...so we'll find a place for you, kid," he hugged her again.

"Thank you so much, Burt…I won't let you down, I promise," she assured him.

"You better not!"

"No, I'm back completely…and not just to answer the phone…I want to learn to do stuff," Santana insisted, "…maybe like how to change out a tire or something useful like that."

"Okay, sure…you want to learn then the lace gloves are off this time around…," he pushed up on the sleeves of his greased-stained coveralls, "You'll learn this shop top to bottom…same as Finn…tires…transmissions…oil changes…there are no girls or guys in this shop, got it? Just hard workers…can you handle it?"

"Absolutely," Santana beamed at the prospect of another chance.

"Do you feel like starting now? I can pay you this afternoon," Burt told her.

"I was really hoping you'd say that…," the young brunette reached into the pink and black messenger bag she had slung over her shoulder and pulled a folded, stained cloth from it, saying excitedly, "I brought my coveralls with me."

She held the drab, oversized garment up, and Burt laughed at the name patch of one of his former workers.

"Wonderful…then welcome back, Rick!" Burt winked.

* * *

><p>"Watch your step, sweetheart," Mara Boyd said to her daughter as she guided Cate through the doorway of her apartment.<p>

"I'm fine, Mom…I can walk on my own," Cate said lightheartedly, knowing her parents had been through a very traumatic experience and understandably felt protective.

"You should listen to your mother," a feminine voice said from the small kitchen near the front door.

Quinn stepped out into the attached living room, wiping her hands on a dish cloth, and smiled broadly at the Boyds.

"Hi you!" Cate beamed at the sight of the young blonde, "What a nice treat."

"Your mom gave me a key last night so I could get things ready for you to come home," Quinn explained, "After I dropped off Santana this morning…I came right over…got a load of your laundry washed... put fresh sheets on your bed…and made you some soup."

"You did all that for me?" Cate sounded pleasantly surprised.

"And she put out pretty flowers too, Cate," Mara pointed out, bending to smell the fragrance of the colorful, spring bouquet which sat on an end table next to the couch.

"They're beautiful…just like you," Cate told Quinn as she put her arm around her waist and kissed her sweetly.

The teen blushed from the unexpected PDA as much as from the sentiment of the compliment, smiling shyly. Cate leaned further into her and whispered into her ear, "Stop blushing, it's true…and…my mom knows you're my girlfriend."

Quinn took a deep breath, whispering back to her, "This takes some getting used to…be patient with me."

"Always," Cate smiled, taking Quinn by the hand.

"Where should I put this, Catie?" Stuart Boyd asked as he walked through the still-opened front door with a suitcase in one hand and large plastic bag in the other.

"Oh here, Dad…I'll take it," Cate said, moving toward the older man.

"No…let me," Quinn insisted, taking both bags, "You go sit down, honey."

"Quinn…that bag from the hospital has Cate's prescriptions in it," Mara notified helpfully, "Be sure to put those somewhere she'll remember to take them."

"Yes, I will," Quinn assured Mrs. Boyd.

"Why don't you lay down now?" her mother suggested, running a soft caress down the back of Cate's head.

"Okay, enough, everyone…I will be fine…I will not break…or kill over," Cate tried to joke in order to wave off her over-protectors.

"Catherine, please don't joke about that," Mara said sadly.

"Sorry, Mom," Cate apologized then turned to Quinn, asking, "Too soon?"

The younger girl nodded with a smirk and raised eyebrows.

"Alright, Mara…let's leave the girls alone…I think Quinn has everything under control here," Mr. Boyd stated objectively, kissing his daughter firmly on the cheek, "Catie, get some rest and call us later."

"Thanks, Dad."

"We love you, sweetheart…please let us know if you need anything," Cate's mom hugged her affectionately.

"I will…now stop worrying…I'm fine, Mom," the tall brunette insisted.

As Quinn went to close the door behind the aging parents, Mara Boyd turned and said in a hushed tone, "Please make sure she takes it easy."

"I promise," Quinn smiled sweetly, shutting the front door.

The young blonde turned toward Cate and informed her, "Ok, first things first…you need to get comfy and eat something…so you go change into your PJs while I get you a bowl of soup."

"Yes ma'am," Cate said jovially then she went up the hallway to her bedroom.

Quinn moved into the small kitchen and pulled a bowl from a shelf in the upper cupboard. She used a plastic ladle she found in the utensil drawer to pour some hearty soup into the bowl then set it on a tray. She tucked a napkin and spoon next to the bowl then filled a glass with some cold water, setting it on the tray as well. The blonde reached into the plastic, hospital bag to remove three brown prescription bottles which she placed on the tray before picking it up and walking gingerly down the short hall to Cate's bedroom.

"Hungry?" she asked the older brunette who was pulling up a pair of beige-striped, cotton pajama bottoms.

"Look at you being all domestic," Cate teased, removing her button-down shirt to reveal a white, ribbed tank top.

"Get under the covers so I can set this down," Quinn instructed.

"I wish my nurse in the hospital had been as adorable as you," the older girl said as she pulled back her comforter and top sheet and settled under it, propped up on a couple of pillows.

"I saw your nurse…a warthog would have been more adorable than she was," Quinn joked as she tucked the napkin in Cate's tank, handing her the spoon.

"True," she agreed, "Wait, you're not going to feed me too?"

"Sure…I can."

"I'm joking…I can lift a spoon."

"Well, make sure that's all you lift around here…ok?"

"Yes, Mom," Cate smirked.

"I'm serious, honey…I was reading your discharge sheet…it said no lifting, no stretching, no squatting, no running…," Quinn listed.

"No running? I guess I'll have to postpone my 5K run then."

"Be serious for five minutes…please?" Quinn pouted.

"Okay, okay…I'm sorry…I'm listening…continue," Cate told her with a straight face, taking a bite of soup, "This is delicious, by the way…I'm impressed."

"Don't be…actually…I bought it from the bakery downtown then just warmed it up in your pan," Quinn confessed, "I was trying to impress your mom."

Cate laughed, catching herself when a sharp pain shot through her ribcage, "Oww…add no laughing to the list."

Quinn finally cracked a big smile, crawling onto the other side of the double bed next to Cate. "Sorry…oh, it also said…no sex…fyi."

Both girls laughed.

"That one I may have to ignore," the older girl warned, pulling Quinn closer, leaning slightly to kiss her.

"Be careful…you'll spill your soup," the teen said as she wiped at Cate's mouth with the corner of the paper napkin.

"It _is _good soup…but don't ever feel like you have to impress anyone, Quinn…you're wonderful just as you are."

"Do your parents _really_ like me?"

"Of course they do…what's not to like?"

Quinn shrugged. "I came out to my friends," Quinn said quietly, "Well…Santana…and Rachel."

"Really?" Cate laid the spoon next to the bowl on the tray, "As in…how out?"

"As in…Hi, I'm Quinn and I'm a lesbian."

"Wow…that's a big development," the brunette acknowledged, "How do you feel about that?"

"Comfortable…sort of," Quinn laughed.

"It's a process…don't feel you have to rush it," Cate said supportively.

Quinn adjusted further into Cate's body, brushing her bangs off her forehead, "I know…but I want to live openly…so I'm trying to overcome any awkwardness."

"I will do whatever I can to assist you."

"Just love me…," Quinn said sweetly, laying her head on Cate's shoulder, "…that's all I need."

"That's a given," Cate kissed her on the top of the head.

"Oh…and no more dying," the blonde looked up and told her with a firm tone.

"Right…I'll do my best," Cate laughed and squeezed Quinn tightly.

* * *

><p>Quinn closed the door of Cate's bedroom softly, not wanting to wake her from her nap. As she walked toward the kitchen, she heard a knock at the front door. The teen set the tray down on the kitchen counter then went to open it, finding Cate's friend Becca on the other side.<p>

"Oh hi," Becca said when she saw Quinn.

"Hi."

"Where's Cate?"

"She's sleeping…she just got home today…did you need something?" Quinn asked.

"Can I come in for a sec?"

Quinn raised her eyebrows out of unintended suspicion then said, "Yeah, I guess." She stepped aside to let the older girl access to come inside the small apartment. The young blonde watched the smallish brunette as she looked around the room, unsure as to what to say to her.

"Did you want to sit down?" Quinn finally asked.

"No."

"Okay," the teen now felt uneasy.

"So, are you two an item now?" Becca asked bluntly.

"Yes…is that a problem?" Quinn responded.

"I just wondered."

Quinn continued to stand in the entryway near the front door, feeling more and more uncomfortable in Becca's presence, breaking the silence by inquiring, "Is there a reason you're here?"

"The night Jordan died…," the girl started hesitantly, "…she came looking for me."

"Okay."

"When she found me…she was pissed."

The younger girl stared at her, waiting for more of her point to be revealed.

"She truly loved Cate."

"Is this before or after she beat the crap out of her?" Quinn asked bitterly.

"You're new here…you think you know things…but you have no clue."

"I know that violence is never the answer."

"Jordan was jealous that Cate got out…she never got past it."

"Clearly," Quinn said deadpanned.

"Not me though…I always respected her for it," the smaller girl shared, "Cate makes me want to be a better person."

"Why are you here, Becca?"

"When Jordan found me Wednesday…she asked me about Santana's cash…she was looking for it…but I told her I didn't take it."

"Okay."

"I lied." The older girl pulled a crumpled, white envelope from the back pocket of her very worn jeans, opening the top to reveal several green bills, "This is all that's left…I'm really sorry…I felt bad as soon as I took…but I was desperate…and when Jordan told me she saw a lot of cash in Santana's bag…."

"You stole it," Quinn interrupted her rambling explanation with an indignant tone.

Becca reached out to hand Quinn the envelope, "There's like a hundred and fifty left…I wish it were more…but I had to pay off a debt…they were coming after me…please tell Cate that I was going to pay it back as soon as I could…I swear."

Quinn took the envelope from her, saying, "You should probably go now."

"I'm so sorry."

"Sorry won't really fix everything that happened, will it?" Quinn opened the front door, and as the older girl passed her, she added, "It's not too late for you to get out and find a better life, Becca."

She stopped in the doorway and looked up at Quinn with tears in her eyes, "You think it's that easy?"

"No…but you know one girl who did…and one girl who no longer has a chance…but you still can, Becca…start by moving out of that house…find better friends," Quinn suggested sternly, "The people you surround yourself with make all the difference in the world."

* * *

><p>Brittany walked into the kitchen to find her mother stirring something in a pan on the top of the stove. As she passed her, she looked over the older blonde's shoulder for a better view, pausing a moment to hug her mom from behind, commenting, "That smells so good."<p>

"I wanted to make a special dinner for us since we finally have you home," Mrs. Pierce said cheerfully, "We're having chicken and roasted potatoes and green beans."

"And chocolate cake!" a tiny voice said from the other side of the kitchen island.

"And chocolate cake…," Mrs. Pierce added with a laugh, "…_if_ you eat some green beans!"

"I will if you will…," Brittany told her little sister with a wink.

The littlest Pierce giggled and nodded from the wooden stool upon which she sat, scrubbing red potatoes with a damp cloth.

"Need help?" Brittany asked her sister.

"You do this big one," Emily handed her the larger of the two potatoes on the counter in front of her.

"Mom…," Brittany started, pulling another cloth from a kitchen drawer and stepping to the faucet to dampen it, "…when's our trip to the beach going to be?"

"I was talking to your Aunt Jill about that this morning…she's booking a beach cabin for the last week of July…why?"

Brittany hesitated in response, wanting desperately to bring Santana on the trip. She was unsure of exactly how to ask though.

She took a deep breath and opened her mouth, but before she could vocalize anything, she heard Emily's tiny voice say innocently, "Can Santana go with us?"

_Thank you, Em_…Brittany thought. "Um…I guess I could ask her…Mom? Would that be okay?" Brittany glanced back at her mother as the older woman moved from the stove to the sink.

"We should check with your dad first, but I don't see any problem with it…two of your cousins aren't going this time because of school trips…there should be extra room in the cabin," Mrs. Pierce said nonchalantly.

Brittany gulped some air once she realized her normal breathing was lacking. _That was easy_…she thought then she added verbally, "okay, great…I'll see if she wants to go."

"Tell her she has to go…Andy promised to teach me to surf this year," Emily said enthusiastically.

"Surf? Don't you need to know how to swim without floaties in order to surf, Em?" Brittany asked her with a raised eyebrow.

"I think you may still be too small to go out with the older boys just yet, Emily," Mrs. Pierce informed her.

"I am bigger!" Emily insisted, "I could do it…right, B?"

"You can do anything you put your mind to, kiddo…but we want you to be safe at the same time," Brittany ran a sweet caress down the back of the small blonde's head.

"Santana would take me out in the deep water," she challenged with a pout.

"Santana would want you to be safe too," Brittany insisted.

"Okay…enough talk…time to chop those potatoes so we can get them in the oven," Mrs. Pierce directed their attention elsewhere, handing Brittany a cutting board and a large knife.

* * *

><p>"David," Mr. Karofsky acknowledged his son as he entered the living room, pointing to the couch where his defense attorney, Thomas Lowell, was already positioned, directing him harshly, "sit."<p>

Dave removed his giant hands from the front pockets of his jeans, rubbing his palms nervously on his thighs as he moved toward the couch. His mother sat in a side chair in the living room, and as Dave sat, he looked up and noticed her dabbing at her eyes with a white tissue.

The burly teen took a deep breath, hoping someone would break the silence that hung in the room, looking at the serious faces of his father then of his attorney.

"David," both men said at the same time, talking over each other, but Mr. Karofsky paused and gestured to the suit-clad man on the couch, "Go ahead, Tom."

"The DA's office contacted me this afternoon…your quote unquote _victim_…," the attorney emphasized with air-quotes, "…has agreed to meet with you."

"She did?" David was surprised but relieved.

"David...," Thomas Lowell cleared his throat before continuing, "I want you to look at your mother there…do you see what you are doing to her?"

David Karofsky didn't respond.

"Are you sure you are prepared to change your entire story about prom night?" Thomas clarified.

"I'm prepared to face the truth," Dave answered.

Mr. Karofsky shifted annoyingly in his chair. "Knowing that you'll not only lose your football scholarship to Rutgers…but that you could spend the next _six _years of your life behind bars?" his father challenged angrily, "Because that's going to be the end result of this train wreck, son…every single thing we have worked for in your life…gone…just like that."

"What I did to her was rape…I've tried every day since that night to convince myself that's not what happened…but I can't," Karofsky sniffed, tears forming in his eyes, "Denying it will never change it."

Thomas sighed heavily and scratched at his graying beard. "You're being given until 10 am Sunday morning to turn yourself into the authorities," he told him, "Eric Cole is arranging this meeting with Ms. Lopez on Monday…and your sentencing hearing is scheduled for Tuesday…_if_ you sign off on the confession, that is."

Karofsky looked down, the weight of the consequences mounting around him, threatening to crush him both physically and mentally.

"We believed you, David…you told us she was lying…and we believed you...," his mother cried, "…now look what you've done to this family….how could you?"

Dave could not lift his head to look at his mother, but he could hear pain in her voice.

"David…don't just sit there…speak," his father raised his voice, the volume resonating, making him feel as though he was five-years-old again and cowering in the corner of his closet as his father screamed his displeasure throughout their house.

"I'm sorry I've disappointed you," David said meekly.

"I wanted you to **be** something in this life, David…everything your mother and I have done…every dollar invested…every ounce of energy exerted…has been simply to put you in a position to be successful…and _this_ is how you repay us."

"I didn't know I owed you," David asked, partly confused, partly defensive.

"David…that's not what your father meant," Mrs. Karofsky spoke protectively.

"I think that's exactly what he meant…isn't it?" he looked directly at his father, "I never asked to be born…that was _your_ choice…you brought me into this world…yet you think I owe you my future?"

"You owed us your achievement."

Those words hit Dave harshly, more harshly than anything he could remember his father saying to him. Everything before this moment was implied, but to hear his father confirm to him that his entire reality had been molded…micromanaged to be exactly as his father wanted him to be…left David feeling as though he existed for no reason at all.

"Well, then you should be quite proud, Dad…because I did achieve," David stared him coldly in the face, pointing at him for emphasis, "I achieved being…just…like…you."

"What do you mean by that?" Mr. Karofsky asked, suddenly thrown off his usual self-assurance.

"I'm angry…I'm filled with hate…and I'm nothing but a bully…just like my dad," David said before he had the better sense to watch his tongue. Yet, even as disgusted with himself and with his father as he felt in this moment, he still could not push the words…_and I'm a fucking queer_…from his brain to his mouth to verbalize the one last truth to which he held on.

Mr. Karofsky stood up to leave the room but turned and added with a smugness, "Perhaps I have faults…but…at least I'm no rapist."

David stood quickly. He was at least four inches taller than his father, and his weight was more muscle than flab unlike his father. Standing toe to toe with him though, Dave always felt small. There was something about this conversation that only served to confirm to Dave that all his doubt and self-hatred was well placed, crushing his spirit that much more.

David Karofsky felt hot tears in his eyes as he stared angrily at his father, his fists clinched, wanting so badly to punch him and punch him then punch him again until all his hatred evaporated, but all Dave could do was let out a deep breath in total defeat and confirm to him, "Well…if you don't like how I turned out, Dad…you only have _yourself_to blame…because you made me exactly as I am."

* * *

><p>The front doorbell rang at the Pierce residence Friday evening.<p>

"I'll get it!" Emily hollered, running to the front door, reaching up to unlock the deadbolt and opening the heavy, wooden door.

"Hey, squirt…," Santana smiled.

"Santana!" the little girl grinned, showing a new gap in her front section of teeth, "Look!"

Santana moved inside and bent at the waist to look directly at Emily's mouth. "You have a new hole!"

"Two! There…and there," the little blonde pointed out.

"What's the tooth fairy's going rate these days?" the brunette inquired, looking up at Brittany who walked up to them, "Cause I may need to start yanking out some teeth soon."

"Uhh…no…I don't think even _you_ could pull off that look," the taller blonde joked.

"Hey, love," Santana straightened to full height and gave Brittany a quick kiss on the mouth.

The Latina followed behind Brittany as they passed by the kitchen where Mrs. Pierce was putting away the leftovers from dinner.

"Hi," Santana said to her cheerfully.

"You're just in time…I'll make you a plate," the older woman told her, scooping the last of the potatoes from a ceramic bowl into a green Tupperware container.

"Oh, I'm good…Rachel and I got dinner before she dropped me off."

"You're sure?" Mrs. Pierce asked, "How about a slice of cake?"

"It's chocolate," Brittany enticed, running her hand down Santana's back.

"Tempting…maybe later?"

"I'll wrap you a piece to take home…," Mrs. Pierce suggested, "I'll make it big enough to share with Rachel…how's that?"

"Perfect," the Latina smiled.

"Come on," Brittany told her, grabbing Santana's hand, "We'll be upstairs, Mom."

The girls went up the staircase and into Brittany's bedroom. Once she had the door closed and locked, she turned to Santana and pulled her into a kiss.

"I missed you," the blonde said.

Santana giggled, "It's only been ten hours…and you were worried about _me_?"

Brittany nuzzled closer, her bare feet making her slightly more face to face with the shorter brunette. "I could never get enough of you."

Santana moved over to the bed, pulling Brittany's wrist, "Speaking of…have you thought any more about moving to New York after graduation?"

"I think it's a great idea…don't you?"

"Yeah…I do…of course."

"So…what's on your mind?" Brittany could read in Santana's face that she was working through something mentally.

"Nothing," she said with a forced smile, laying back against the pillows and straightening her legs so Brittany could roll over to the other side of her.

"Okay," Brittany knew never to force Santana's thoughts. She laid her head in the crook of Santana's shoulder, wrapping her arms around the brunette's trim waist, enjoying their physical closeness, "How was it being back at the shop today?"

"It was great…I learned how to drain oil out of a car."

"Well, aren't _you_ becoming handy," Brittany teased, running her fingertips lackadaisically up and down Santana's torso also slipping them under the hem of her fitted t-shirt to touch the smooth, brown skin of her stomach.

"I think I'm really good at working with my hands," Santana surmised.

"You'll get no argument from me," the blonde teased, shifting more of her weight on top of Santana, maneuvering her long leg in between the brunette's thin legs, dragging her knee purposefully across Santana's groin as she moved up to cup her hands around the Latina's cheeks to draw her into a long kiss.

Brittany could tell Santana's thoughts still had her distracted so she settled back on top of her with her head on her chest. She felt Santana's arms wrap around her back as she lay there for several quiet minutes, listening to the brunette's heart beat rhythmically inside her.

"Britt?"

Brittany smiled into Santana's chest, thinking…_Ok, here we go_. "Yes?"

"Do you think we were always meant to be together?"

"How do you mean?" the blonde could tell this was going to be an interesting conversation.

"Do you think if we'd been born in different places…that we'd have found our way to each other?"

"You mean like…fate?"

"Fate…destiny…whatever you want to call it," Santana caressed Brittany's bare arm as she spoke.

"Does it matter? I mean…we have each other now…right?"

The Latina was silent a moment then agreed, "Right."

Brittany knew that tone. She lifted her head, resting her chin on her intertwined fingers, inches from Santana's face. "But…it matters to _you_, huh?"

Santana shrugged. "I was just thinking…I guess," Santana said, sounding vulnerable.

"Then tell me what you are thinking," Brittany encouraged.

"Rachel was talking at dinner."

"Rachel's always talking," Brittany joked.

"True," Santana smiled, "I wondered if you saw any of the news from last week."

"News?"

"Rachel told me that New York passed a bill that allows same-sex marriage now," Santana informed her.

"Seriously? So like lesbians and gays can now get married? With everything that was going on…I didn't hear about that," she answered. Brittany sensed though that there was more to this topic for Santana to bring it up, adding quietly, "How do you feel about that?"

"It's a big step…marriage…don't you think?"

"Definitely…whether it's traditional marriage…or same-sex marriage." Brittany chuckled slightly, saying, "Does that sound as weird to you as it does to me? Same-sex marriage?"

"Well…we are the same sex, Britt," Santana said humorless, "We're both girls."

"I know that…it still seems like such a foreign concept though," Brittany unintentionally wrinkled her nose, "Doesn't it?"

Santana adjusted to move out from under Brittany, propping herself up on her elbow on the pillows below her. "Are you saying you've never thought about it before?"

"About…what?"

"About being married?" Santana asked.

"Sure I have…I've always wanted to get married…I want to have three kids…and two dogs…and two cats…and one of those big rainbow-colored birds that I can train to talk," Brittany described excitedly.

"So you definitely thought about it…," Santana sat up, pulling her knees to her chest and hugging them tightly in a protective manner.

Brittany felt suddenly like she had said the wrong thing. "What's wrong?" she asked, sitting up with her legs crisscrossed, facing Santana.

Santana shrugged again.

"Talk to me," Brittany coaxed.

"When you thought of all those details…who did you see yourself married to?" Santana pushed herself to ask.

Brittany didn't answer immediately.

"It was a guy…wasn't it?" the brunette challenged her.

"Santana…," Brittany started.

"No, it's okay…I get it…," the Latina cut her off, standing and walking toward the bedroom door, pushing away Brittany's hand as she reached up to stop her.

"Santana…wait…please don't leave like this…," Brittany followed her as she opened the door and headed quickly down the staircase, "Santana."

"Oh, are you leaving already?" Mr. Pierce asked as the wounded Latina flew past him in her rapid path to the front door.

Santana didn't answer him, afraid that if she opened her mouth, her emotions would overtake her.

"Santana…don't forget your cake," Mrs. Pierce called to her from her recliner in the living room.

The brunette did not slow to take heed of the reminder. The last thing she could stomach now was homemade chocolate cake from the woman she already thought of as her mother-in-law. She had one goal at the moment and that was to get outside without causing a scene so that she could text Quinn to pick her up a little earlier than anticipated.

"Santana!" Brittany called out again, catching up to her as she stepped out onto the front porch.

"It's all good, Britt…I'm fine…I just remembered that I need to be at work early tomorrow…I should get some rest…my stamina is still a little low…today sort of did me in," she explained more than was necessary.

Brittany grabbed her by the upper arm to stop her movement. The blonde turned Santana around and told her, "You're rambling…which means you're hurt…and that's not what I meant to do."

"No, I know…you were just answering honestly…it's fine…I'm fine," Santana hit send on the text to Quinn then looked up and forced a smile at the tall blonde.

"I love you, Santana…I don't know how many ways to say that so that you believe it," Brittany stated, her voice thick with exasperation.

"Are you saying it until I believe it…or until _you_ believe it?"

"Why would you say that?" Brittany's blue eyes looked fiery in the setting, July sun, her hurt evident on her freckled face, "After all I've said to you…and _done_ for you…you still doubt me?"

"You want a picket fence life…you want traditional…and the only thing I can offer you is non-traditional," Santana could no longer hold onto her emotions.

"I never said that," Brittany defended.

"That's your dream life, Britt…and I want you to have your dream life…even if it means I can't have mine," Santana choked back hot tears, "So…do us both a favor…and go back inside and eat your chocolate cake…and pet your big, fat cat…and plan out your perfect little family."

Santana's words stung with the type of hurt that Brittany had never felt before this moment. The emotional void between them felt so wide that Santana might as well have been standing on the other side of the Grand Canyon. Brittany felt frozen in place, not moving toward Santana but not retreating into her house.

Santana turned away from Brittany to face the front yard.

Brittany stood there, tears streaming down her face, looking at the back of Santana's head, her dark hair pulled up into a tight ponytail just as it had always been when they were dressed in their Cheerios uniforms.

She watched the Latina a few seconds as her shoulders shook up and down. Brittany knew Santana was crying. She reached up to wipe at her own tears, unaware of exactly what flipped their universe from the overabundance of love they felt this morning to this resentment hanging over them now.

Not knowing a single word to say, Brittany turned and walked back inside her house, shutting and locking the door behind her.

_**There are places I'll remember  
>All my life, though some have changed<br>Some forever, not for better  
>Some have gone and some remain<br>All these places had their moments  
>With lovers and friends, I still can recall<br>Some are dead and some are living  
>In my life, I've loved them all…<strong>_

**_But of all these friends and lovers_**  
><strong><em>There is no one compares with you<em>**  
><strong><em>And these memories lose their meaning<em>**  
><strong><em>When I think of love as something new<em>**  
><strong><em>Though I know I'll never lose affection<em>**  
><strong><em>For people and things that went before<em>**  
><strong><em>I know I'll often stop and think about them<em>**  
><strong><em>In my life, I love you more…<em>**

_**In my life, I love you more.**_

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note<strong>: The songs referenced in this chapter are _Suddenly I See_ by KT Tunstall and _In My Life_ by The Beatles.

Love has many sides and many stages to it. Just like the moon, sometimes it can't be viewed in its complete fullness, but that doesn't mean it's not there in its entirety. Keep that in mind as you continue reading this story.


	24. Chapter 24

**Her Smile Heals Me (part 24)**

**March 8, 2011**

Brittany made her way up the staircase of Santana's house. Nobody had answered the front door when she rang the doorbell. The Latina's white Mustang was parked in the driveway, so Brittany knew she was home. She also knew where there was an extra house key hidden under the shrubs in front of the Lopez home.

Brittany knocked softly on the closed bedroom door.

"Go away," Santana said loud enough to be heard, knowing it was most certainly Brittany.

The door opened anyway, and Brittany stuck in her head, finding Santana sitting cross-legged on her faux zebra-skin rug on the floor near her bed. She was still wearing the tight-fitting purple and black striped dress she'd worn to school that day though she had taken off the black leather jacket with fringe that she loved so much.

Brittany remembered the day she and Santana went to the mall and the brunette bought it. She was so excited about it that she wore it out of the store, and Brittany had played with the black fringe in the car as Santana drove them home.

That happy memory was Brittany's initial thought when Santana walked up to her at the lockers earlier in the day. She had no way of knowing their entire existence would alter by the end of the conversation. Once Santana told her what she needed to tell her, all Brittany could do was watch helplessly as Santana stormed off down the hallway, hurt and angry at Brittany's reaction to her revelation.

"You didn't wait for me after school," Brittany said, realizing just how much her reaction upset her best friend.

"You're right…I didn't," Santana confirmed.

Brittany just looked at the brunette as she sat on the floor, flipping pages in her English book, knowing Santana wasn't looking at any of the words on any of the pages.

"Did you need something?" Santana asked harshly.

"Why are you so angry with me?" Brittany asked innocently.

Santana looked up at the blonde who had taken a seat across from her in the desk's chair. "Seriously?"

Brittany continued to look at the Latina.

"I poured my heart out to you…I told you something I've never told _anyone_."

"I know that was hard for you, Santana…believe me, I know…because I've been trying to get you to face that part of you for a year now," Brittany sounded frustrated.

"Do you even get what I'm actually saying, Britt?"

"I've known you like girls, Santana…I may be dumb…but I'm not blind," Brittany said.

Santana shook her head and looked away.

"I just don't know why you've tried so hard to hide it."

"What I tried to tell you isn't about me liking girls…it was about me liking _you_," Santana sounded exasperated with having to spell it out so clearly for Brittany.

"I know that," Brittany confirmed, "How were you expecting me to react?"

"I just thought you'd…," Santana trailed off.

"I'd…what?"

Santana shrugged, "That you'd…be more supportive."

"I am supportive…I will always support you as long as you're being honest about who you are," Brittany said warmly, moving from the chair to kneel next to her best friend, running a gentle caress up and down the exposed part of her upper arm.

"Then…be with _me_," Santana looked down.

"I can't…," Brittany grimaced, "I'm sorry, Santana."

"Because of Artie?" Santana said the name of Brittany's boyfriend with a bitter tone, "That doesn't make any sense, Britt."

"It's not that simple, Santana."

"Well, it should be that simple…I love you…I've always loved you…and I thought you loved me too."

"I do love you…and I've tried to tell you that several times before now…and all you've done is turn your back on it."

"I don't understand how you can have sex with me for this long then choose a guy over being with me," this concept made no sense to the brunette.

"Why? Because you think I should just drop everything since you've now decided you want to be with me?" Brittany said more harshly than she intended.

"Get out," Santana said coldly.

"No…I want to work through this with you," Brittany held her ground, but she was caught off guard when Santana stood up, pulling Brittany up with her.

"There's nothing to work through," the brunette stated as she pushed Brittany toward the bedroom door, "You've made your choice…now please leave."

"So you'd rather not have anything if you can't have me the way you want me?" Brittany felt hot tears coming to her blue eyes.

Santana didn't respond but continued to push the blonde until she was out in the hallway.

"You're being selfish, Santana!" Brittany exclaimed as Santana slammed the bedroom door, locking it, leaving her on the other side.

Santana turned, her anger immediately turning to anguish, as her thin legs lost all their strength, causing her to slide down the length of the bedroom door until she was crumbled on the floor with her knees pulled tightly to her chest. She tried to hold back any audible loss of control, praying Brittany would just leave, but she felt a vibration of wood against her spine as Brittany pounded on the other side.

"Santana…don't do this…you mean too much to me…please."

The Latina put her hands over her face as tears poured down her brown-toned skin.

"I know you're hurting, Santana…but that was never my intention," Brittany told her, her face pressed against the wood of the door, trying to will the brunette to open it and work things out with her.

She stood there for what seemed like forever, knowing Santana was sitting on the other side of the door, because she could hear her choked-back sobs.

Finally feeling her efforts were futile, Brittany turned and walked away.

_**I'm still alive, but I'm barely breathing  
>Just prayed to a God that I don't believe in<br>Cause I got time while she got freedom  
>Cause when a heart breaks, no it don't breakeven…<strong>_

_**Her best days will be some of my worst**_  
><em><strong>She finally met a man who's gonna put her first<strong>_  
><em><strong>While I'm wide awake, she's no trouble sleeping<strong>_  
><em><strong>Cause when a heart breaks, no it don't breakeven…<strong>_

_**What am I suppose to do**_  
><em><strong>When the best part of me was always you and<strong>_  
><em><strong>What am I suppose to say<strong>_  
><em><strong>When I'm all choked up and you're okay…<strong>_

_**I'm falling to pieces, yeah,**_  
><em><strong>I'm falling to pieces…<strong>_

_**They say bad things happen for a reason**_  
><em><strong>But no wise words gonna stop the bleeding<strong>_  
><em><strong>Cause she's moved on while I'm still grieving<strong>_  
><em><strong>And when a heart breaks, no it don't breakeven…<strong>_

_**What am I gonna do**_  
><em><strong>When the best part of me was always you<strong>_  
><em><strong>And what am I suppose to say<strong>_  
><em><strong>When I'm all choked up and you're okay…<strong>_

_**I'm falling to pieces, yeah**_  
><em><strong>I'm falling to pieces, yeah<strong>_  
><em><strong>I'm falling to pieces<strong>_  
><em><strong>One's still in love while the other one's leaving<strong>_  
><em><strong>I'm falling to pieces<strong>_  
><em><strong>Cause when a heart breaks, no it don't breakeven…<strong>_

_**You got his heart and my heart and none of the pain**_  
><em><strong>You took your suitcase, I took the blame<strong>_  
><em><strong>Now I'm tryin' make sense of what little remains<strong>_  
><em><strong>Cause you left me with no love and no love to my name…<strong>_

_**I'm still alive, but I'm barely breathing**_  
><em><strong>Just prayed to a God that I don't believe in<strong>_  
><em><strong>Cause I got time while she got freedom<strong>_  
><em><strong>Cause when a heart breaks, no it don't break even.<strong>_

* * *

><p>When Quinn pulled into the Pierce driveway, she saw Santana sitting on the cement steps of Brittany's front porch. The Latina was dressed casually in light-colored jeans with a fitted, black t-shirt and magenta and dark gray running shoes. Her knees were pulled up to her chest because her feet were on the bottom step, allowing her to lean face down on her crossed arms.<p>

Quinn noticed how small and alone Santana looked sitting there with the dusk increasing around her. The blonde had already left Cate's apartment when she got Santana's text that she needed a ride home from Brittany's, "ASAP" the text said. Still, it took her twenty minutes to get to the Pierce house. Quinn was curious as to why Santana was waiting outside without Brittany.

She was just about to turn off the ignition of the Jetta when Santana lifted her head and saw her in the driveway.

Even in the darkening sky, Quinn could tell instantly that Santana had been crying. She watched as she tried to discretely wipe at her face with the edge of her short sleeve before standing and walking quickly toward her car.

Santana opened the passenger door and got in, closing the door behind her. "Thanks for coming so fast," the brunette said, her voice shaky.

"No problem," Quinn assured her, "I had already left…I just needed to run an errand."

The Latina buckled her seatbelt then sat unusually quiet on her side of the car.

"Is everything alright?" Quinn inquired caringly.

Santana nodded then turned to look out her passenger window as Quinn backed her car out of Brittany's driveway and put it in gear to move down the neighborhood street, turning at the stop sign.

"You sure are quiet," Quinn commented, glancing over at the brunette then back at the road as she made another turn out onto the main street.

Santana shrugged.

"So this should cheer you up…take a look in my purse…there's a surprise for you," Quinn directed Santana, using an upbeat tone to overcome whatever was bothering the Latina.

Santana shifted in her seat and picked up Quinn small handbag from the floor board near her feet.

"There's an envelope in there…check it out," Quinn smiled.

Santana unzipped the purse and pulled the crinkled, white envelope from the top. "What's this?"

"Look inside…I think you might recognize it."

The brunette opened it and saw the multiple green bills in it, counting it until she got the total of $500.

"Becca brought it all back this afternoon…she asked me to apologize to you…she felt really bad about it," Quinn stretched the truth, turning the Jetta onto a side street that led to the Berry house.

Santana sat quietly, contemplating the situation.

"Aren't you excited," Quinn asked, her face reflecting some of the disappointment she felt at Santana's lack of enthusiasm over getting back her money.

"Q…where did you really get this?" Santana asked suspiciously.

"Does it matter…you have what you need to get whatever you've been saving for," Quinn told her.

"It's _more_ than I had left," the brunette pointed out.

"Oh…well, now you have that much," the blonde shrugged off the discrepancy.

"I can't take your money, Quinn."

"Look, some of it really is yours…Becca brought back one fifty…so the rest of it is courtesy of dear old dad," Quinn said with a satisfied grin, pulling the car into the driveway and putting it into park.

Santana sat thinking of the way she left things with Brittany for several seconds before she responded, "Thanks, Q…but keep it."

"Trust me…you need it more than he does," the former head Cheerio assured her.

"No…I don't need it any longer," Santana said sadly, putting the envelope back in the top of Quinn's purse.

"Wait…what's going on?" Quinn put her hand over Santana's as she tried to zip it closed.

The brunette pulled her hands to her face as her emotions broke free.

Quinn unbuckled her seatbelt and put her arms tightly around the

Latina. "What happened?"

"Why can't anything just go the right way," Santana choked out between sobs, "For once in my god awful life?"

"Does this have to do with Brittany?"

Santana nodded, wiping at her tears with the back of her hand. "I think we broke up."

"What? Why?"

"I don't want her to settle," the brunette tried to explain the jumble of thoughts that had been spinning in her head since her conversation with Brittany about marriage and family.

"Do you think that's what she's doing with you?" Quinn tried to understand Santana's point and try to help her reason through her thoughts.

"Promise me you won't ever say anything about this…," Santana sounded somewhat desperate, "Promise me."

"Okay, yeah…I promise, San…you can always tell me anything."

"Brittany being bi-sexual really confuses me," Santana confessed.

"Have you ever talked to her about how it makes you feel?"

"No…it's always just sort of been the elephant in the room."

"She's always seemed comfortable with being bi…no?" Quinn observed honestly.

"That's just it, but I don't get it…why would she choose to be in a homosexual relationship when she could easily choose to be in a normal one?"

"Because…she didn't have any choice in who she fell in love with, Santana," Quinn reasoned, "She fell in love with _you_."

"She chose a guy over me once…I don't know that I'll ever be able to forget that," Santana said bluntly, months of stored hurt showing.

"Are you talking about Artie?"

Santana nodded. "What if that's really what she prefers?"

"Santana, only Brittany can give you her reason for that decision, but ultimately…she can back to you, right?" Quinn defended, "Love is love."

"I want Brittany to have everything she ever dreamed of in life…," Santana's voice cracked again, "…and if she'd rather be in a real marriage with kids and cats and dogs and that stupid bird."

"Ok, I'm not sure what a bird has to do with any of this…," Quinn couldn't help but laugh, knowing if it was Brittany then there was probably some strange reason that made sense, "…but you need to stop right now and look at me." Quinn lifted Santana's chin with a gentle touch. "Whatever your life is now…or ends up being later on…is normal. You _are_ normal, Santana. I mean, you may be a different kind of normal…but who of us isn't?"

"But different is still different, Quinn," the brunette sounded as though she was willing to just give up on any concept of happily-ever-after.

"And you think you can't give that to her because you're gay? Because gay people can buy birds too, San," Quinn tried to lighten the moment.

Santana sniffed and gave her a partial smile.

"Let me give you some very useful advice that somebody once gave me…you are thinking too much," Quinn winked, recalling the night the two of them sat in her car in this same driveway and Santana told her that. The blonde tilted her head to make sure she was looking directly into Santana's eyes, "Your brain is causing you more pain than anybody else in your life."

Santana nodded and wiped at her wet nose. "It's just that…she's the only perfect thing in my life."

"Then _that's _where you're going to fail."

The Latina narrowed her eyes and wrinkled her nose. "What do you mean?"

"Brittany is human…with human emotions and human fallacies. You need to allow her space to just be. That's where your trust comes in, and I know you have trust issues…believe me, San, I totally understand trust issues," Quinn said, rubbing the brunette's arm gently, "but sometimes you just have to take a chance…and let your heart plunge into the deep end…with no safety vest."

Santana sat quietly a moment.

"Did you hear _any_ of that?"

The brunette nodded and smiled. "I heard you. It's just a lot to think about right now."

"Call her, San…if you have questions about her feelings then at least give her a chance to answer them."

"I should go…thanks, Quinn," Santana said as she reached out to open the passenger door.

"Wait…," the blonde grabbed her forearm, "Don't you need this?"

"I'll pay you back…I promise," Santana told her, taking the envelope from her.

"Just name the bird after me…deal?" Quinn winked.

Santana grinned, "Deal."

* * *

><p><strong>Saturday, July 2, 2011<strong>

"Finn!" a high-pitched voice called to the tall teen who was down inside the sunken workspace underneath a car.

Finn Hudson removed his safety glasses and looked up to find Kurt and Blaine standing there. He smiled and said, "Hey."

"Where's Dad?" the smaller teen asked, looking for Burt.

"Did you try the office?" Finn motioned to the back corner.

"Thanks," Kurt told him, waving bye as he and his boyfriend walked to the back of Burt's shop.

They found Santana on the phone when they got to the small office which was lit brightly from inside, having clear window panes on three sides of it.

"Yeah, it's ready now, so you can pick it up any time before we close tonight at six," she told the person on the other end of the phone before hanging up. She looked up and asked, "Are you two lost?"

"Hello to you too, Santana," Blaine smirked.

She smirked back, drawing a line through the name of the person she just called.

"Is my dad around," Kurt asked pleasantly.

"Do you see him?" the brunette retorted abrasively.

"Ok…will he be back soon?"

"He just went around the block to test drive the breaks on a car," she told them, adding, "What are you two doing here?"

"Just passing by…on our way to the mall," Kurt stated.

"Oh, is there a sale on sequined bowties?" Santana asked bitingly with a smirk.

"No…," Blaine answered, slightly offended at the insult.

"Besides we would never buy sequins, Santana…they clash with the glitter in our eye shadow," Kurt retorted with a flippant gesture, knowing better how to handle the Latina's moods.

Santana laughed, "That's good…I like that one."

"So why are you so crabby today?" Kurt asked straight up.

She sat back in the desk chair and crossed her legs at the knees, asking, "Is it that obvious?"

"A porcupine is less prickly than you are today," Kurt informed her.

"Brittany and I are fighting," Santana said sadly, pausing a second before clarifying, "Well, by fighting, I mean that I keep texting her and she keeps ignoring me."

"What did you do?" Kurt asked.

"Why do you assume it's something I did?"

"Well…."

"I fucked up…something pretty huge, and now she won't talk to me."

"What's the topic?" Kurt pressed the Latina.

Santana looked at Kurt then Blaine, hesitant, but then realized that maybe they had an interesting perspective to contribute.

"Talk…," Kurt could tell Santana wanted to say more.

"Would you guys be _worried_…about your future together…if either of you were bi?"

"Is this about Britt being bi?" Kurt clarified the obvious.

Santana nodded, running her index finger absent-mindedly along the edge of the clipboard in front of her.

Both guys looked at each other, but Kurt pointed to Blaine to respond first since it was a topic the two had discussed previously among themselves.

"Well, I personally think sexuality tends to be a bit more fluid than labels allow for, Santana," Blaine explained.

The Latina stared at him for a second then looked at Kurt, "What the hell does that mean?"

"He has a valid point…some people simply fall in love with the person, not the gender."

"But don't most people have a preference?" Santana asked.

"Sometimes yes, sometimes no," Blaine answered.

"Do you _always_ talk in riddles?" Santana asked harshly.

"Listen…Brittany might always find guys attractive…but she loves _you_…," Kurt speculated, pointing directly at Santana, "…so why are you so threatened by it?"

"I don't know…I just am," Santana responded honestly.

"I'm not going to lie to you…I think you're being just a little bit unfair, my lesbian friend," Kurt gently teased.

"Maybe…whatever…," she tried to shake off her internal torment, stating, "Look, I get that I'm probably overreacting…that's why I just want to move past it, but she's completely shut me out."

"Can't you just apologize?" Blaine asked with a shrug.

"Oh, honey…that's cute…but seriously…," Kurt patted him on the shoulder then sat on the corner of the desk and crossed his legs, "The ways of love aren't always that simple." Kurt rolled his eyes and added, "Men."

Santana looked down at her hands without commenting further.

"You should buy Britt a huge bouquet of flowers then serenade her outside her bedroom window," Kurt suggested.

"That's dumb," Santana commented.

"It's romantic…who wouldn't love that?"

"Um…everyone?"

"Yeah, Kurt…I tend to agree with Santana on this one…that's a little over the top, don't you think?"

"Said by the man who made a giant fool of himself in a local Gap store," Kurt shot Blaine a look.

"Point taken," Blaine had to agree, "Santana, maybe you should just put it all on the line…perhaps Brittany would reconsider her position if she were just reminded how much you truly love her."

"Maybe," Santana said contemplatively, absent-mindedly playing with one of her cuticles.

"Well, whatever you're going to do…you need to do it quickly before the Fourth of July celebration at the river," Kurt alerted her, with a disappointed pout, "Everybody has already given their RSVP…it would be a shame if either of you missed it…or didn't go together."

Santana looked up and nodded. She had forgotten all about the Fourth of July coming up and the fact that it was their anniversary of sorts. "You're right…I'll figure out something…_hopefully_."

* * *

><p>Santana slowed Finn's old, blue pick-up truck on the main street of Lima's downtown square, finding a parking space and backing into, turning the steering wheel to straighten the tires and pull the truck forward slightly until she was perfectly in the parallel space. As she jumped out, she looked down quickly at the watch on her right hand. 5:01pm. <em>Fuck<em>.

She ran the rest of the distance to the front door of the downtown jeweler and pulled hard on the door, finding it locked. She sighed deeply. _I can't win_.

She turned just as a short, older man walked past her. She recognized him immediately and stopped him, "Mr. Martin?"

"Yes?" he turned around, fumbling with his old satchel in one hand and a suit coat in the other.

"Do you remember me, sir?" she smiled as sweetly as she could muster "Santana Lopez?"

"Oh yes, Santana," he returned the smile, "I was starting to wonder if you were coming back."

"I took a bit of a detour recently…but I am back to pay the balance…see I have cash," she told him, pulling the crumpled envelope from the front pocket of her jeans.

"Oh, I've closed up for the long weekend, dear…can you come back on Tuesday?" Mr. Martin informed her.

"I know…I tried so hard to get here by five o'clock…please…it's really…_really_…important."

"I've already cashed out my drawer," he said with a grimace.

"Sir…_please_?" Santana pleaded with the elderly man, "I'll do anything."

The short, old man sighed heavily then reached into his pants pocket to remove his set of keys. "Okay, come inside."

Santana followed him as he unlocked the front door then turned off his alarm by punching in a set of numbers. "Thank you so much, Mr. Martin," she told him sincerely.

"Yes, yes…I understand young love…," he assured her, remembering the Latina on the day she first came into his shop. He moved over behind his glass case, setting down his bag and jacket. "Let's see where I put that…it's been ready for a couple of weeks now," he told her.

Santana watched the little old man as he put on his glasses to search through a box of claim tickets.

"Lopez, right?"

"Yes, sir," the Latina confirmed, stretching to look over the glass case.

"Okay…let me pull it from the back." He was gone about a minute before he returned with a small, black box. His chunky, wrinkled fingers struggled with pulling the velvet box from the plastic envelope.

Once he had it out, he opened it and turned it toward Santana who felt her stomach do a flip flop.

"Is it what you had in mind?" Mr. Martin asked her, "I tried to stay as close to your sketch as possible."

"It's beautiful," she told him with a huge smile, "You did a wonderful job, Mr. Martin."

"Well, double check the engraving," he instructed, "My eyes aren't what they used to be."

Santana inspected it further, feeling tears welling in the corners of her eyes, "It's perfect."

* * *

><p>Santana waved bye to Finn who dropped her off at her house then she closed the front door.<p>

"Santana, is that you?" Trey called out as he stepped from the kitchen to place a bowl of potatoes on the dining room table.

"Yes," she answered, coming out of the entryway to find her family sitting down to dinner.

"Wash up and take a seat…we're having baked cod," Daniel told her, taking his cloth napkin from the table and putting it in his lap.

"Oh, um…cod?" Santana wrinkled her nose.

"Have you ever tried it?" Trey asked her, removing a filet from the baking dish with a spatula and putting it on Rachel's plate.

"I'm not exactly a fan of fish," Santana said hesitantly.

"Well, if you'll try my cod tonight…we'll try one of your favorite dishes another night…is that fair?" Trey smiled widely.

Santana appreciated how much the Berrys always tried to blend her background into their household. It was one of many things that made her love them.

"Sure," she agreed, going into half-bath in the hallway to wash her hands, noticing she had some motor oil stains already on her fingertips. _Lovely_, she thought…_two days in, and I've already ruined my manicure_. She wiped her hands and shrugged, grateful for the job and the distraction the job brought with it.

As she walked out of the bathroom, Santana pulled her phone from the side pocket of her pants. She slid open the front screen to check for any texts or missed calls from Brittany, knowing in the back of her mind there weren't going to be any since she had just check five minutes ago. She frowned and her heart sank a little lower when her disappointment was confirmed. She let out a deep sigh.

The Latina sat down at the table and added some green beans to her plate as Daniel past a bowl of roasted new potatoes to her.

"Thank you," she told him, scooping out a few then passing the bowl to Trey who sat at the other end.

"How was it being back at the shop?" Daniel inquired.

"Messy…," Santana grimaced, holding up her stained hands.

"Try mineral oil…," Rachel said in-between bites, "…Finn swears by it."

"Thanks," Santana nodded, taking a big bite of potato.

"Don't think I'm not seeing you eat around your fish, young lady," Trey winked, taking a sip of his wine.

Santana flaked at a piece with the tip of her fork, picking up a small chunk and bringing it to her mouth, wishing it would somehow transform into a juicy bite of hamburger with cheese before it hit her tongue. She closed her mouth and chewed politely then quickly followed it with a large roasted potato, telling Trey, "Mmm…delicious."

"You're a horrible liar," Rachel laughed from across the table.

Everyone at the table broke into laughter.

"How did I end up in a family of vegetarians?" Santana groaned.

"Daniel and I aren't vegetarians, but we do try to eat healthy," Trey corrected the notion.

"On my night to cook…I'm making hamburgers," Santana warned with a smile.

"Hamburgers?" Rachel was instantly grossed out.

"With bacon," Santana teased.

"Ugh…no way," Rachel put her hand up in protest, "We're Jewish, Santana."

"Dad said I can make _my_ favorite…but that's fine…I'll invite my fellow gentile, Quinn, over that night...she loves bacon," Santana teased some more, "And you can have a trough of lettuce up in your room."

"Oh god…I can only imagine the smell that night," Rachel faked barfing in her cloth napkin.

"That's right…sizzling pig fat," Santana winked at the smaller brunette, "Yum."

"Ok, girls…enough…eat your dinner," Trey tried to tone down the growing topic.

"So how's the wedding reception looking for tomorrow, honey?" Daniel asked his partner.

"If I survive this one, it will be a miracle," the dark-skinned man told them, "I seriously need three or four more assistants."

"Rach…Santana…why don't you two help Trey out?" Daniel suggested.

"That's a great idea…I'd pay you for your time…what do you think?" Trey said.

"Sure…what do we have to do?" Rachel asked.

"Just help me set up everything inside the tent where the reception is being held," he explained, "The wedding is at eleven…we just need to have everything ready to go by noon...Santana?"

"I don't know…weddings aren't really my thing," the Latina confessed.

"Come on…I think you'd really like this one," Trey coaxed.

"It'll only be fun if we both do it," Rachel added.

Santana gave in with a shrug and a roll of her brown eyes, "Okay."

* * *

><p><strong>Sunday, July 3, 2011<strong>

"David Karofsky," Detective Sheldon stated with a smug grin, "Welcome."

"Detectives, my client is here to turn himself in as per the terms of our agreement," Thomas Lowell reminded them.

Detective Mills looked at his watch. "Ten o'clock on the dot…I appreciate promptness."

"Where are your parents, David?" ADA Eric Cole inquired.

"We felt it was best if _I_ escorted David here," Thomas answered.

"Well then…let's get this party started…right this way, David," Detective Mills pulled the oversized teen by the upper arm until he was at a tall, wooden counter.

The uniformed officer behind the counter set a plastic bin on the top of the huge desk.

"Take off your watch…and place it and any other valuables, including your wallet, in the bucket," Detective Sheldon instructed with an authoritative voice.

David looked down at his much shorter attorney who nodded for him to follow instructions.

As Karofsky took out his wallet, he accidentally dropped it to the floor. As he bent over to pick it up, he heard Detective Sheldon tell him, "Be careful there, son…you need to learn to watch behind you."

Detective Mills, who was at least two inches taller than Karofsky, leaned over to whisper in his ear as he straightened back up, "You never know where someone might stick their fist."

David swallowed hard and removed his watch to place in the plastic container next to his wallet.

"Ok, step over here and they'll get your prints," Detective Sheldon directed him.

After David's prints were on file, he was moved to an area to have his mug shot taken.

"You are hereby officially known as Prisoner 08122008," Detective Sheldon announced.

Detective Mills grinned, asking, "How does it feel to be known as a 'perp'?"

"David, don't forget about your meeting that's been scheduled for tomorrow," ADA Cole told him.

"If he survives the night," Detective Mills stated in jest.

"Cut the good cop, bad cop routine, fellows…I think he gets the point," Thomas spoke up on Karofsky's behalf.

"If your client thinks this is rough in county lock up, Thomas…he won't stand a snowball's chance in hell once he's moved to State prison," Eric Cole said bluntly.

"Look, let's just be clear…he hasn't officially admitted to anything until after that meeting tomorrow…got it?" Thomas spat out, "So you just make sure Ms. Lopez shows up…or I'll have all three of your asses before Judge Bradford in a heartbeat."

* * *

><p>Sunday morning turned out to be a gorgeous, sunny day. Rachel and Santana met Trey at a popular Lima country club known to have beautiful gardens where many brides chose to have their weddings.<p>

He immediately put them to work, unloading bouquets of flowers and center-pieces made of the hundreds of yellow roses that Trey had to special order for the occasion.

"This is so romantic in here, isn't it?" Rachel asked Santana as they set decoratively-folded cloth napkins at ever place setting on the big round tables.

"Yeah, I guess," Santana wrinkled her nose, straightening a spoon and knife.

"Don't tell me that you don't think about marrying Brittany some day," the petite brunette elbowed the Latina.

Santana paused, feeling a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. She had wanted so much to ask Brittany on Friday night about the possibility of them getting married at some point in the future, but the whole topic got derailed. Santana had replayed that entire conversation in her head at least thirty times since that night, and if she were being honest with herself, she knew the path it took was her fault…and she felt badly about it now.

It was just that she had never really gotten over Brittany's initial reaction when she first confessed her love for her back in March. Bottom line, Brittany chose to stay with Artie instead of immediately jumping in her arms and confirming that she loved and always wanted to be with Santana. It hurt then…and it still stung now when Santana thought about it.

"Santana?" Rachel prodded the silent Latina.

"Yeah…of course I have," she confirmed with a shrug, "But I don't know if that's realistic."

Rachel frowned as her dad approached them.

"Santana, I need you to do me a favor, sweetheart," Trey walked up to the brunette who was straightening the fabric chairs around the final table under the large white tent.

"Sure," she agreed.

"Go out to the van and find another roll of tape so we can finish securing the extension cords."

Trey looked at his watch, taking a deep breath. 10:50 am. They were doing really well on timing at this point in the morning. The wedding would be starting in ten minutes so he could expect the guests to start filtering into the tent around 11:45 am. _Nearly an hour_, he thought…_plenty of time_.

Santana hurried out to the white delivery van which was parked near a large oak tree behind an adjacent building. As she approached the van, she saw an older, auburn-haired woman under the tree, sitting on a cement garden bench. Santana could tell the woman was crying, and even though she felt slightly uncomfortable with the strangeness of the circumstance, she passed near the woman and asked, "Are you okay?"

"Hmm? Yeah," the woman answered, dabbing at her perfectly-adorned face with the corner of a white tissue.

"You don't exactly look like you're okay," Santana pressed.

"I'm not faking it very well, am I?"

"Not really, no." Santana gave her a partial smile.

"You're honest…I appreciate that quality," she complimented the teen, "I'm Laurel, by the way."

"Santana," she answered politely.

Santana saw that the woman was dressed in a lavish, white wedding gown and surmised, "Having cold feet?"

"More like a mid-life crisis," Laurel joked, dabbing again at her eyes.

"Not exactly the best day to have one," Santana pointed out, wrinkling her nose.

"Right," Laurel nodded then broke into more of a cry.

"Hey, listen…I'm sorry…I can be a real jerk sometimes," the Latina apologized, "I'm especially bad with all this wedding and romance shit…I mean, stuff."

"No…it's not you, dear," the older woman took in a deep, calming breath then let out a small chuckle, "And you're right…it is just a bunch of shit…I _never_ wanted this huge wedding."

"Well, it's not too late…I think my dad's keys are in the van…I can bust you out here," Santana joked, trying to lighten the moment.

That made Laurel laugh more, "I appreciate that, Santana…but then…I'd have a lot of explaining to do."

"It is _your_ life…you shouldn't commit unless you're absolutely sure this is what you want."

"No, no…I'm sure…it's definitely what I want…I've waited for nearly fifteen years to have this opportunity…I just didn't envision doing it in front of three hundred strangers," Laurel explained.

"You mean…you don't know any of those people?" Santana was confused.

"No…they're my partner's family and friends…I say partner, but technically, she's already my wife."

"Hold up…your wife?" Santana was taken aback by this revelation.

"Cassie," Laurel confirmed, "We met several years back…we've been together six…then a few months ago we decided to get married. We made it official down at the court house in Newton where we live…Massachusetts, that is…but Cassie always dreamed of a giant wedding and reception with all her family from Ohio and Texas…so here we are."

"With three hundred strangers," Santana smiled.

"Exactly…and my mid-life crisis," Laurel returned the smile, "I really hate large gatherings…with a passion, but I love her…and I wanted her to have whatever she wants, you know?"

"Yeah, I know what that's like," Santana looked down at the graveled pathway, thinking of Brittany, "I guess I never really thought that two women could have a wedding like this…with the tent and the flowers and all the food."

"Oh god…yeah…if I flake out now…I still have to pay for all that food," tears welled up in Laurel's eyes again.

"Hey, don't cry anymore…your mascara is starting to run," Santana said sympathetically.

Santana stepped closer to the bench and handed Laurel a clean tissue. "What's so scary about all this anyway?"

"I don't know exactly…I just…want everything to be perfect…and everything's gotten so out of control," Laurel confessed.

"Well, you're here now…and you look lovely in your gown…and if you love Cassie as much as you say you do, and I think you truly do…," the teenager cajoled the older woman, "…because your face lights up like a Christmas tree when you say her name…then I think you just have to suck it up and make your way to the garden and do what makes her happy."

Laurel wiped her runny nose and nodded.

"Cause let's face it…when you've made her happy…that's when you're your happiest, right?"

"Definitely," Laurel agreed, sniffing and standing up to smooth any wrinkles in her skirt, "You're very wise, Santana…wise beyond your years."

"Please, I suck at this whole love thing…I didn't even know all this was possible for two women," the Latina dismissed.

"Well…now you know."

"Yeah, now I know," she wasn't sure if this newfound knowledge made her feel better or worse about her current circumstances with Brittany. She took a deep breath and added, "So put on a big smile and go remember what made you fall in love Cassie…then all those strangers will just fade into the back ground."

The taller woman took a step toward Santana and hugged her, "Thank you, Santana."

"You're welcome."

"But just in case…keep the van running, ok?" Laurel winked at the teen as she nervously tucked a wayward strand of auburn hair behind her left ear.

"You bet," Santana laughed.

* * *

><p>Rachel walked out of her bedroom Sunday evening to go downstairs to the kitchen for something to drink. She stopped at Santana's bedroom when she heard what sounded like sobbing on the inside of the Latina's room.<p>

Rachel knocked softly. "Santana?"

There was no response, but worried, Rachel turned the knob anyway, slightly surprised when the door unlocked.

"Santana?" the petite brunette repeated, hearing sniffing even though the room was dark, "Are you okay?"

"No," the Latina answered honestly, lying on her stomach on the bed, her face buried in her pillow, having no energy for pretense.

Rachel kneeled next to the side of Santana's bed, rubbing her gently on her shoulders. As the smaller brunette's eyes adjusted to the moonlit bedroom, she could see that Santana's face was soaked with tears.

"I didn't know you had gotten back from Brittany's," Rachel said, concerned, "What happened?"

"She wouldn't even let me inside."

Rachel grimaced, knowing Brittany had to be extremely angry or hurt or both for her to avoid contact with Santana for this long.

Santana had already told Rachel some parts of what had happened between her and Brittany.

"Her mom said Britt didn't want to see me…that she told her to tell me to go away," Santana's voice was thick with emotion.

"I really sorry," Rachel caressed the top of her head.

"I don't know what to do, cause I have that meeting with Karofsky tomorrow morning…," she reminded Rachel, knowing she still wasn't sold on the idea, "…I can't go by myself, Rach."

The smaller girl crawled on to the other side of the bed and settled next to Santana, hugging her tightly from behind. "You don't have to…I'll go with you," she encouraged Santana, "I'm sure dad would go too if you want."

"I'm so scared," the Latina confessed, crying harder, "I _need_ Brittany."

Rachel squeezed harder, resting her head on Santana's back, "Just focus on facing your fears, like you said, ok?"

"Every time I face a fear then there's always a new fear that replaces it," Santana sniffed hard, her voice catching in the back of her throat, "What's my problem? Why can't I just let go of things?"

"You feel things deeply…I get that, because I do too," Rachel lamented.

"There's something else…but you can't say anything to anybody," Santana pulled herself up, sliding her long legs over the edge of the bed, "Promise?"

Rachel sat up too, "Yeah, of course."

Santana turned the switch on her bedside lamp then pulled open the drawer on her nightstand. She reached in and removed a small, black box, turning to sit cross-legged on the bed, facing Rachel.

"What's that?" Rachel asked, her eyes wide.

"It started out as a promise…a commitment for when Brittany and I move to New York," Santana raised the top on the hinged velvet box, the lamplight shining off the polished silver of the ring inside it, "Then you told me about New York allowing same-sex marriage, and I don't know…I sort of…."

"You're going to propose to Brittany?" Rachel interrupted, overwhelmed with excitement.

"I was going to…tonight…but she told me to go away," Santana's tears renewed themselves, escaping down her full cheeks.

"I'm so sorry," Rachel leaned forward to hug her, hating the amount of pain she saw in Santana's face.

"Things was going so great with Britt…I messed it up, like I mess up everything."

"So what exactly is she so angry about?"

"I said some really mean things to her Friday night."

Rachel grimaced, her nose wrinkling out of sympathy for both of them, asking, "What did you say?"

Santana shook her head, "I don't even remember the details…I was just so jealous and hurt."

"Why jealous?"

"Because of fucking douche bag Artie," Santana's bitterness was clear.

"Artie?" Rachel sounded surprised.

"It probably doesn't make sense to anyone but me…and every time I say it out loud…it makes less sense even to me."

"What are you talking about?" Rachel was confused.

"She stayed with him…I told her how much I loved her and that I wanted us to be together…and she stayed with _him_."

"And…?"

"She chose him over me, Rach…it was brutal…and so unlike her," Santana remembered back to that day and how much Brittany's reaction hurt her, "In the back of my mind, I think I've been scared to trust her ever since."

"Actually, San…that sounds just like Brittany," Rachel confirmed.

"What?" Santana looked wounded.

"Brittany didn't choose Artie over you…she chose to stay true to her commitment…if anything, that should only make you trust her more now that she's committed herself to you."

"I just want to die," Santana said dramatically, popping shut the hinge on the ring box, the accuracy in Rachel's statement hitting the Latina like a ton of bricks. She had let all of her personal insecurities mask the integrity that she knew was inside Brittany.

"No, sweetie…don't say that…love will find a way," Rachel squeezed her tighter, "It just has to."

"It's hopeless…I've never known her to be this angry…ever."

"Nothing's hopeless, Santana," Rachel assured her, "She just needs to see this beautiful ring."

"Here…take it…I can't even look at it now," Santana told her, forcing the small box into Rachel's hand.

"Santana, don't be like that," Rachel tried putting it back into the Latina's hand, "You worked so hard to get it for her."

"It's doesn't matter…it was a fucked up idea anyway," Santana cried, tossing the box toward the doorway. When it hit the floor, it rolled the rest of the way out into the hallway, "Just go, Rach…I want to be alone now."

"Santana," Rachel grabbed her by the wrist as she started to turn back over on the bed, "Promise me back…you won't do anything drastic."

"I won't…I promise…," Santana turned face down in the pillow again, mumbling through fresh tears, "…unless you can die from a broken heart."

_**When you're weary**_

_**And haunted,**_

_**And your life is**_

_**not what you wanted.**_

_**When you're trying**_

_**So hard to find it…**_

_**When the lies**_

_**Speak the loudest**_

_**When you're broken**_

_**By people like me…**_

_**I hurt too,**_

_**I hurt too…**_

_**When an ocean**_

_**sits right between us**_

_**There is no sign**_

_**That we'll ever cross**_

_**You should know now**_

_**That I feel the loss…**_

_**I hurt too,**_

_**I hurt too…**_

_**Even though you are drowning**_

_**In valleys of echoes,**_

_**I believe there is peace in**_

_**Those hills up ahead.**_

_**You will climb 'til you find places**_

_**You'll never let go.**_

_**And I will also be here praying**_

_**Just like I said…**_

_**I hurt too,**_

_**I hurt too.**_

Brittany lay on her bed, crying into her pillow, listening to every sad song she had on her iPod through her headphones. She wasn't even sure what time it was now though she knew there was still some light in the room when her mom told her earlier that Santana was downstairs and now the room was totally dark.

She didn't hear the knock on the door the first time or the second time before her mom entered.

"Brittany," Mrs. Pierce said as she shook her daughter's shoulder.

The long blonde startled from the gesture, sitting up quickly and yanking out her earphones with one sharp tug.

"You scared me," she told her mom.

"Sorry," the older woman apologized as she reached under the lampshade to turn on Brittany's bedside lamp.

"Don't turn that on, Mom," she whined slightly.

"Brittany Susan Pierce…you have done nothing but mope around and cry for two days now…you haven't showered, you've hardly left these four walls…and I've barely gotten you to eat anything at all."

"It's bedtime anyway," Brittany said, looking over at her tabletop clock, seeing that it was 9:08 pm, "Just let me turn the light out and go to sleep."

"Since when have you gone to bed at nine o'clock in the last few years?" her mother tried to tease her.

"Since everything in life sucked," Brittany said sadly, lying on her side, facing her mom and hugging her pillow close to her chest.

"You had an opportunity earlier to make life suck a little less, and you sent that opportunity away."

"I'm just so angry at her," Brittany revealed.

"Clearly," her mom confirmed, "But she loves you."

"She doubted me…after everything I've done to try to prove to her how much I love her too."

"Life's not perfect, sweetheart…neither is love. It's in those moments of imperfection that love is most powerful."

Brittany let out a deep sigh, hearing a knock on the bedroom door that was partially open.

"Hi, may I come in?" a soft voice asked.

Brittany sat up to see around her mother.

Rachel Berry pushed the door opened the rest of the way and stepped inside Brittany's room, "I hope it's okay…your dad let me in."

Mrs. Pierce smiled broadly, realizing her husband was clueless of all the teenage drama happening under their roof.

"Hello, Rachel…come on in," the older Pierce welcomed the petite brunette, "I think Brittany could really use some company tonight. She looked down at her daughter with a stern look, adding, "Wasn't that nice of Rachel to come over to cheer you up?"

"Hey, Rach," Brittany said reluctantly, standing up to move over to her floral-print lounge chair, tightening her blonde ponytail as she sat down and pulled her long legs up underneath her.

"I'll leave you two alone to chat," Mrs. Pierce said sweetly, patting Rachel on the shoulder as she passed her, walking out of the room and closing the door.

"Hi," Rachel repeated once the two teens were alone.

"If Santana sent you then you are both wasting your time."

"She didn't send me, Britt…in fact, she doesn't even know I came over here," the brunette told her, "She'll probably strangle me if she finds out."

"Then why are you here?" Brittany stared at the shorter girl with a stone look.

"Because I care about Santana and about you, and I know how much you're both hurting," Rachel told her.

"Yeah, well…Santana caused this."

"And she's trying so hard to fix it…but you have to meet her in the middle, Britt."

Brittany looked down at her bent legs, twirling a string that was in the seam of her cotton pajama pants.

"She has her meeting with Karofsky in the morning at ten thirty. It's a pretty big deal. She has to go to the county jail for it."

Brittany looked back up at Rachel but did not verbally respond.

"I know you realize how frightening that is for her," Rachel moved closer toward Brittany and sat on the edge of her bed, next to the chair where she sat.

Brittany nodded.

"Brittany…she's hurting so much."

"I'm hurting too, Rachel…I don't know the Santana who left here Friday night."

Rachel paused, contemplating anything she could say that might help the situation. The smaller girl stood to leave but stopped first to open Brittany's hand, setting in it a black, velvet box. "Yes you do, Britt…she's the same girl who loves you with all her heart…the same girl who had this made for you."

"What's this?" the blonde asked, confused.

Rachel smiled sweetly and said, "A box…that hopefully has just the right fix inside."

She didn't wait for Brittany to respond before she turned and left the room.

Brittany turned the little box around, her curiosity overtaking her anger. She knew what the box looked like it contained, but she thought it would never be something Santana would do…_would she_?

The blonde noticed her fingers where trembling as she popped open the hinged-top, seeing exactly what she would have guessed would be in the box. She pulled the silver ring out of the soft holder, noticing a unique design of intertwined hearts etched on it. Her throat tightened, and something internal compelled her to look on the inside of the ring.

There was a message engraved inside…one she instantly recognized, one that made her heart swell and fresh tears well up in her eyes.

The message said simply: _There's only us, There's only this ~ _S

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>: The songs referenced in this chapter are _Breakeven_ by The Script and _I Hurt Too_ by Katie Herzig.

To ensure clarification, the inscription on the ring is from _No Day But Today_ (from the musical **Rent** – which was referenced in Chapter 7 of HSHM).

Also, since I have so many International readers, I should clarify, for anyone scratching their head over what's going on down at the river, that the Fourth of July is a national holiday in America (the U.S.'s day of Independence). It is celebrated with fireworks displays all across the nation.

Please be sure to let me know your thoughts on this chapter, especially my interpretation of what may have happened _after_ the "Hurt Locker" scene. I am still trying to wrap my brain around Brittany's reaction.

I love hearing from all of you, and I really do appreciate the reviews you guys leave. I try to answer each one of you. Thanks again, Kim


	25. Chapter 25

**Her Smile Heals Me (part 25)**

**Monday, July 4, 2011**

Santana Lopez and Rachel Berry sat in side-by-side wooden chairs in the lobby of the Allen County Lock-up Facility in Lima, Ohio Monday morning. The smaller brunette held the hand of the taller one as they sat quietly, waiting to be called to the prisoner meeting area.

Rachel looked over her shoulder toward the entrance of the building, mentally hoping to see Brittany show up. She had not made any mention to Santana in case Brittany never showed. She looked down at her watch. 10:24 am. Rachel sighed heavily, knowing the meeting was scheduled for 10:30, then looked back at the entry door again.

"You're acting more nervous than I am this morning…what's your deal?" Santana inquired, noticing Rachel's jitteriness.

"Huh?" Rachel turned back toward the taller girl.

"What do you keep looking over there for?"

"I thought maybe Dad might come anyway," Rachel covered.

"I told both Dads I'd be fine…to go to work and not worry," Santana reminded her newly-acquired sibling.

"You're not 'fine' though," Rachel grimaced, squeezing Santana's trembling hand.

"Yeah, and they'll both worry too…so we're all faking it today," Santana tried to joke.

The young Latina looked particularly beautiful, her hair pulled up in a clip on top of her head with a few loose strands cascading down. This somehow made her look younger, more innocent, and though it wasn't her intention when she dressed that morning in a simple black and white, cotton sundress, the end result was breathtaking.

"Santana?"

She looked up to see ADA Eric Cole standing at a heavy metal door that opened and shut loudly with a mechanical hinge which was electronically-activated by a deputy who sat inside a bullet-proof, glass-paneled booth.

"They're ready for you," Eric motioned for the girls to join him.

Both brunettes stood hesitantly, Santana nervously flattening out the skirt on her lightweight sundress and Rachel shuffling her small purse from one arm to the other and looking one last time at the entrance door.

She was overjoyed when the door opened and in walked Brittany who smiled, asking as she caught up to the pair, "Did I make it in time?"

Santana recognized that voice immediately and turned around.

"Perfect timing," Rachel told her with a giant smile and a huge sigh of relief.

"You came?" Santana asked softly as if seeing Brittany there was possibly a mirage.

"I wouldn't let you do this without me," Brittany smiled supportively.

Not realizing how much she had pushed the reality of this moment from her mind, Santana suddenly felt the strength in her legs growing weaker so she sat back down in the nearest chair, overpowered by the anticipation of being in the same room with Karofsky. Still feeling overwhelmed with everything that had happened with Brittany, she lowered her head nearly to her lap, her hands covering her face as her anxiety-level overtook her resolve.

"Santana?" Eric Cole prodded.

The Latina didn't answer, her body beginning to visibly shake.

Rachel looked at Brittany, saying, "This is just too much for her."

Brittany didn't say anything in response but looked down at Santana who was clearly in distress.

"Can she reschedule this?" Rachel asked the ADA, "I just don't know if it's worth putting her through all of this."

Eric looked at his watch, knowing they only had a certain window of opportunity before Karofsky would be returned to his cell.

"We need to do this now," Eric emphasized with an understanding tone.

"Britt?" Rachel bit nervously at her bottom lip.

Brittany kneeled down in front of Santana and wrapped her long arms around her shoulders. She felt Santana's entire body shuddering as she cried softly into her hands. Brittany lowered her head to speak directly into Santana's ear, speaking slowly and calmly, telling her, "Take slow, deep breaths…in and out…in and out."

Santana concentrated her brain on the feel of Brittany's body pressed firmly against hers, the warmth of her breath in her ear, and the soothing sound of Brittany's voice until she found a normal rhythm to her breathing.

Once Brittany felt Santana's body relax under hers and her crying stop, she whispered softly, "You can do this. You are strong. You will not be defined by him or what he did."

Santana sniffed and straightened to look at Brittany's face, nodding her head, "Okay."

"Yeah?" the blonde asked to make sure, tucking one of Santana's dark strands back up into her clip and wiping at her wet cheeks.

"Yeah," Santana confirmed.

Brittany stood up from the floor and pulled Santana from the chair by her hand, escorting her toward the large metal door and past ADA Cole to enter a hallway that ended at a set of metal bars and another armed-deputy who sat behind a desk with several video monitors.

All four of them stopped, and were instructed by the officer, who pushed a clear, plastic container to the edge of the desk, "All personal items in here please…jewelry, purses, wallets, keys…if it's removable…it goes in the bucket."

"So like…our earrings too?" Rachel asked, confused.

"All jewelry please…in the bucket," the oversized guard repeated robotically.

Rachel removed her earrings and her watch and set them with her purse in the container then removed her gold necklace that read Finn. Brittany set her car keys and rope-like bracelet in the plastic bin next to Santana's earrings, watch, and sunglasses.

"Cell phones, ladies?" the officer asked.

"Oops, sorry…," Santana grimaced, pulling her phone from the side pocket of her dress, making sure it was turned off then putting it with Brittany's in the larger container.

"Mine's in my purse," Rachel smiled at the group.

The ADA put his items in too with the girls' stuff and motioned for them to join him near the metal bars. A different officer scanned their bodies with a handheld metal detector then nodded to the one at the desk who pushed a button, sounding a buzzer and sending the bars rolling backwards until they were opened.

Once the group was inside the meeting area waiting room, they were greeted by David Karofsky's defense attorney, Thomas Lowell.

"Eric," Thomas acknowledged the ADA with a courtesy nodded of his head.

"Thomas," Eric returned the professional acknowledgement, "Is your client ready?"

"Yes, I've spoken to him directly," Thomas confirmed, "He is insisting on meeting without counsel present."

"That's unexpected," Eric said with a look of shock on his face, "Then I'll need to set up a recording device."

"He is requesting a private meeting…with _no_ counsel present," Thomas clarified.

"No way," Eric laughed.

"Do you want to facilitate the end result or not, Eric?" Thomas asked.

"I can't in good conscience send a young girl in alone to meet with her rapist," ADA Cole stood firm.

"_Alleged_ rapist, Counselor," Thomas reminded, turning to Santana, "And it's Ms. Lopez's decision."

"I don't understand what is happening," Santana responded, feeling pressure from all the eyes in the room focused on her reaction.

"Santana…Karofsky wants to meet privately with you…," Eric reiterated.

"Just me and him? Alone?" Santana felt sick to her stomach. She looked over at Brittany who smiled at her, and she remembered what Brittany told her. Not wanting to be defined by this part of her life, she told the ADA, "Ok, I'll do it…if Brittany can go in with me."

"I'm sure that's fine…," Eric said, "Thomas? Any disagreement?"

The stout attorney shook his head.

"Britt?"

"Sure," the blonde agreed, taking her by the hand.

ADA Cole nodded to the armed guard who stood at the door of a meeting room. The guard turned the knob and motioned the teens to enter.

"Take a seat on this side of the table," he told them, "Do **not** attempt to touch or pass anything to the prisoner at any time or the meeting will be terminated. There are cameras in the corners which are monitoring at all times. If you feel distressed or in danger at any point then please notify one of the guards. Are there any questions?"

Both girls shook their heads, their eyes wide with realization of the seriousness of the situation, then they sat down as instructed.

Brittany looked down as she pulled her chair up to the table, noticing the legs were bolted to the floor. The blonde shivered, not sure if it was from the blast of cold air she felt blowing out of an air vent directly above the table or from the apprehension of seeing Karofsky's face again. She reached under the table and put her hand on Santana's knee, squeezing it to reassure the brunette that she was not alone.

Santana took in a gulp of air as the inside door buzzed and unlocked loudly.

The door opened, and another armed guard stepped into the room then pulled David Karofsky inside by the upper part of his arm. He was clothed in a bright yellow jumpsuit and had cuffs on both wrists and both ankles that were all chained together in front of him, tethering all his limbs and restricting his movement, as he shuffled forward toward the table.

David looked at Santana sitting at the table, flanked on her right side by Brittany, and some part inside him felt a sense of relief, glad for her to have that comfort.

The guard assisted Karofsky as he sat down in the chair then he cuffed his chains to the underside of the table before the guard walked to the back corner of the room to wait.

He squirmed nervously in his chair without making any direct eye contact.

_**It's empty in the valley of your heart**_

_**The sun, it rises slowly as you walk**_

_**Away from all the fears**_

_**And all the faults you've left behind…**_

_**The harvest left no food for you to eat**_

_**You cannibal, you meat-eater, you see**_

_**But I have seen the same,**_

_**I know the shame in your defeat…**_

_**But I will hold on hope**_

_**And I won't let you choke**_

_**On the noose around your neck…**_

_**And I'll find strength in pain**_

_**And I will change my ways**_

_**I'll know my name as it's called again…**_

Santana sat quietly, unsure of why Karofsky requested this meeting or what he might say to her. She felt Brittany squeeze her knee again, the room filling with a deafening silence, as both girls stared at him.

"Thank you for agreeing to talk to me," he began.

Santana and Brittany sat with a look of stone on their faces.

"I don't really have anything planned out to say," he said, "I just felt it was important for you to know how sorry I am."

The Latina did not respond to his apology. She looked at him in his prison attire, bound to the table, and her mind flashed back to prom night with him on top of her, his hand between her legs. She instantly felt a stabbing pain in her groin, and she swallowed hard and involuntarily winced in her chair.

Brittany felt Santana's body tense so she ran her hand along her thigh in a gentle caress.

"You don't have to say anything…I understand," David said meekly, the non-responsiveness of his audience starting to unnerve him, "I can only imagine how much you hate me. You have every right to, but you'll never hate me as much as I hate myself."

He looked at the guard near the room's exit door then back over his shoulder at the guard next to the room's interior door.

"I was just so angry that night," he said reflectively, "I was mad at everyone in my life…my parents…my teammates…the whole school for that fucking joke of a King and Queen vote…even Kurt." He paused and looked down, "He is just so confident in who he is…I was so jealous of that. I _wish_ I could be like that."

The more Karofsky spoke about himself the angrier Brittany got until she felt compelled to speak up.

"Ok, you know what, you bastard…nobody cares how _you_ felt that night. Do you see this girl in front of you?" Brittany looked Karofsky in the eyes, sitting up on the edge of her metal chair and pointing at Santana who sat to her left, "This girl right here…I love her…more than you'll ever understand about love…and _you_ nearly killed her…and what you didn't destroy physically…you destroyed mentally and emotionally…and it's taken _everything_ the rest of us can do to help bring her back…so you take a real good look at her face then you think about the consequences of your actions…because _your_ circumstances don't mean shit in the end."

Santana looked at Brittany in stunned silence.

"You're right…nothing about me matters…I'm sorry," Karofsky said softly, looking back down at the table.

"Is that all you wanted to say to her?" Brittany's defenses were super-heightened.

"I guess so," David answered cautiously.

"Okay, great…come on, Santana…you don't owe him anything," Brittany stated harshly, standing up, adding as she turned to leave, "Good luck in prison."

"Britt," Santana called out to her over her shoulder, causing the blonde to pause and lean back down to her. "Let me have another minute," she whispered.

"You're sure?"

"Yes…I have something to say to him," Santana insisted, "Alone."

Brittany looked at Santana and saw determination in her eyes. She ran a soft touch down her cheek and smiled sweetly. "I'll be right outside," she assured her then turned to leave.

Santana watched her girlfriend walk out of the room and saw the guard close the door again before she turned in her seat and looked back at David Karofsky.

_**Cause I have other things to fill my time**_

_**You take what is yours and I'll take mine**_

_**Now let me at the truth**_

_**Which will refresh my broken mind…**_

_**So tie me to a post and block my ears**_

_**I can see widows and orphans through my tears**_

_**I know my call despite my faults**_

_**And despite my growing fears…**_

_**But I will hold on hope**_

_**And I won't let you choke**_

_**On the noose around your neck…**_

_**And I'll find strength in pain**_

_**And I will change my ways**_

_**I'll know my name as it's called again…**_

"She's angry," Santana said bluntly.

"She has every right to be," he responded, "Aren't you?"

"Yes…part of me probably always will be," she confessed.

"I understand that," he swallowed hard, his throat feeling very dry.

"You hurt me…what you did to me has put me through hell," she paused, thinking back to that night, "What did you think it would prove?"

Karofsky shook his head, hesitating then answering, "I wanted you to see me as a normal guy."

"So you _forced_ yourself on me? That's not normal, Karofsky."

"Girls like you have it easy," he had a slight accusatory tone in his voice.

"What do you mean, _girls like me_?" Santana was taken aback by that statement.

"Lesbians…you can fake it…guys can't," he told her as though it made perfect sense.

"Now you're blaming me because _you_ couldn't get an erection?"

"Nevermind…it doesn't matter," Karofsky said, sounding totally defeated.

Santana watched his demeanor alter as he shifted uncomfortably under this topic. "Have you _ever_ had sex with a girl, David?"

It took a moment before he answered softly, "No…I've tried…but no."

"That at least makes some sense," Santana responded gently.

"Don't tell anyone…please?"

She saw tears in his eyes. "I used to be embarrassed too…to be gay…hell, I still am somewhat," she confessed, "But you can't let others bury you in shame."

"Why did you come here today?"

"To prove to myself that I'm not scared of you," she told him.

"Did it work?"

Santana nodded, "Yeah…you're just as miserable as I've always felt…I just took it out on others a different way than you did."

"Does it get better?"

"It does…," she assured him, "…once you start being honest, especially with yourself."

"Being honest is so hard," he said, a tear escaping down his cheek. He went to wipe at it, but the chain tethering his hand wasn't long enough.

"No, honesty's easy…it's the lying that's hard," Santana responded.

David sniffed. "I already gave them my written confession. I should be punished for hurting you. I'm so very sorry, Santana."

Santana could see the sincerity in David Karofsky's face. "I forgive you."

As soon as she said those words, her emotions overtook her. Her eyes clouded over with hot tears, and as they poured down her face, they felt somehow cleansing.

"You didn't have to say that so thank you," he said, fresh tears in his eyes.

She nodded, wiping her face with the back of her hand since she didn't have a tissue.

"Time's up," the large guard behind David announced loudly, moving toward him.

"I'm really glad everything worked out for you…with Brittany," he told her as the guard unlocked his chains and pulled him to a standing position.

"How do you know it has?" Santana asked, sniffing hard and wiping at her runny nose.

"I can just tell," he said with a smile as he turned and walked to the interior door. It buzzed loudly before the guard opened it and led him through, leaving Santana alone at the table.

She sat a moment and cried.

_**So come out of your cave walking on your hands**_

_**And see the world hanging upside down**_

_**You can understand dependence**_

_**When you know the maker's land…**_

_**So make your siren's call**_

_**And sing all you want**_

_**I will not hear what you have to say…**_

_**Cause I need freedom now**_

_**And I need to know how**_

_**To live my life as it's meant to be…**_

_**And I will hold on hope**_

_**And I won't let you choke**_

_**On the noose around your neck…**_

_**And I'll find strength in pain**_

_**And I will change my ways**_

_**I'll know my name as it's called again.**_

"Santana?"

The Latina turned around to see Brittany standing there, and she smiled up at the tall blonde.

"I'm sorry about that," Brittany moved toward the table, putting her arm around Santana's shoulders and handing her a tissue.

"About what?" she asked, adding, "Thanks."

"What I said to him…," Brittany sighed heavily, "…after all that I told you about keeping calm…then I completely lost it."

Santana blew her nose. "Don't be sorry," she reassured her, standing and putting her arm around Brittany's waist, "I've never loved you more than at that moment."

* * *

><p>Once the girls reached the parking lot in front of the prison, Rachel pushed the button on her remote to unlock her car. She circled around the front and got into the driver's side as Brittany opened the passenger side door for Santana.<p>

"Thank you again for coming," Santana said softly, "I couldn't have done it without you."

"At least it's over," Brittany stated, looking up to smile over at Rachel who winked at her, "What are you guys going to do now?"

"I promised my mom we'd have lunch with her once we got done here," Santana told her, running her fingertips gingerly over the top of Brittany's hand that was propped on the inside part of the car door, "Why don't you join us?"

Brittany glanced down, not yet in control of the array of emotions she'd felt over the last three days, "You go on…I have some things to do today."

"Brittany...," Santana started, but the blonde cut her off.

"Don't, ok?"

The Latina looked up at her, confused slightly by her reaction, "But…I know I owe you an apology."

"Let's not do this here," Brittany whispered back.

"Okay…," Santana looked down, "Will I see you soon?"

"I just have some things I need to think about," she responded.

Santana wasn't sure what that meant. "Should I be worried?"

Brittany let out a small laugh, responding, "What do you think?"

"I guess we have things we need talk through, huh?" Santana said sadly.

Brittany leaned into the leather seat of the SUV, nearly face to face with the Latina, and put her arms around her, "Go have a nice lunch with your mom." She kissed her on the forehead, adding, "Always remember how proud I am of you today, ok?"

"Are you still going to go to the river tonight?" she asked, hopeful.

"Yes, I'll see you there," Brittany confirmed.

"Bye," Rachel said, starting the ignition of the car.

"Bye," Brittany replied, pulling back to shut the passenger door, waving as Rachel backed the car out of the parking space and pulled away.

* * *

><p>Cate Boyd walked into her small kitchen and smiled when she saw Quinn flip over a grilled cheese sandwich in the pan in front of her.<p>

"Hi, honey…I'm home," Cate made a joke of Quinn's newfound domesticity.

"Oh, stop it…," Quinn retorted, knowing Cate had only walked to the mailbox and back, "…lunch is almost ready."

"I see that…you are the grilled cheese master chef, my dear!" Cate put her arms around Quinn from behind her.

"I know you're teasing…but this one is going to be perfect," Quinn assured her, flipping the sandwich over again, "No burn marks at all….go grab a plate."

The taller girl kissed Quinn on the cheek then turned to reach into an upper cabinet, telling her with a laugh, "I was starting to enjoy the bitter taste of burnt bread."

"I admit, I was a slow learner at first…but I'm starting to get the hang of this cooking business," Quinn smiled, sliding the sandwich out onto the plate Cate placed on the counter, "I think I'm ready to move on to eggs now."

"Oh goodness, how many eggs am I going to have to choke down before you're an omelet master chef?" Cate winked at her.

"As many as it takes?" Quinn pouted slightly.

"It's a good thing I love you then," she leaned down to kiss her on the lips, "Because I _hate_ eggs."

Quinn hugged Cate and laughed.

"Oww," the older girl reacted to the tight squeeze.

"Ooo, sorry," the blonde apologized, seeing Cate wince, "Let me get you a pain pill."

"No, I'll be okay."

"Well, take it now so you'll have time to sleep it off before tonight," Quinn advised.

"I don't want to take any of those," Cate told her.

Quinn picked up one of the three prescription bottles that were on the kitchen counter, holding it up to see it was still full. "You haven't taken any more of these since Friday?"

"No…in fact," Cate took the brown bottle from Quinn's hand and pushed into the side pocket on her navy Capri pants, "You should just take it with you."

"Why?" Quinn wrinkled her nose at that suggestion, "What am I supposed to do with them?"

Cate shrugged, making light of the issue, "Throw them away…or sell them on the street…whatever you want…I just shouldn't have them around me really."

"I don't understand."

"I'm an addict, Quinn," the older girl reminded her.

"A _recovering_ addict," Quinn emphasized, running a supportive hand up and down Cate's upper arm.

"Yes, but an addict nonetheless," Cate said sadly. She paused then added, "I remember the last thing Jordan said to me the night she died…'You're one breath away from being just like me again'."

"She was just jealous," Quinn tried to make her feel better.

"She was right though," Cate looked down, saddened by the thought of Jordan, "It's just not worth the risk. I'd rather have a few days of pain than to sink back into that and risk losing _you_."

Quinn pulled Cate toward her by the belt loops on her jeans, "I admire your strength."

"It's like Nietzsche said…," Cate stated, having a passion for the 19th century German philosopher, drawing a lot of fortitude from his wisdom during her recovery, "…'He who has a _why_ to live can bear almost any how.'"

Quinn smiled up at the taller girl, always finding new reasons to love her.

"You're my _why_, Quinn," she told her, pulling her into a deep kiss.

* * *

><p>Santana opened the glass door to The Lima Bean coffee shop, stepping aside for Rachel to enter. She followed the smaller brunette inside, letting the door close behind her.<p>

The girls walked up to the counter to put in their coffee order when they heard a familiar cackle. Turning, they saw their fellow Glee Club members, Mercedes and Sam, sitting at a nearby table. Santana looked back at Rachel and gave her a knowing smile then walked toward the table.

"Sammy Evans," Santana greeted the handsome blond, one of her many ex-boyfriends, putting her hands on his shoulders and squeezing, "What a pleasant surprise." She turned her head and smiled at Mercedes, "Oh, are you two here _together_?"

The beautiful, dark-skinned girl couldn't help but laugh at Santana's over the top greeting, standing up to hug her, "It's good to see you too, Santana…I've missed you…sort of."

Santana laughed and hugged Sam too.

Rachel said hello and gave them each a hug, adding, "How's your summer been?"

Mercedes glanced quickly over at Sam, answering suspiciously, "It's been fantastic…how about yours?"

"There's been a lot of…activity," Rachel responded cautiously, looking at Santana.

"It hasn't lacked any drama," Santana added, "but it's going well now."

"Good to hear," Mercedes smiled supportively, knowing some of the details from talking to Rachel and Kurt.

"So we'll see you two down at the river this evening…right?" Rachel asked.

"Of course," Sam confirmed.

"What time are you guys getting there?" Mercedes wanted to know, taking a sip of her iced-coffee.

"Finn and Kurt reserved one of the spaces near the pavilion so come early because we're going to cook out on the grill that's there," Rachel informed her.

"Who's in charge of this cook out? You and Kurt?" Mercedes raised an eye brow.

"Yes…why?"

"So what's on the menu?" Sam inquired with a grimace, looking at Mercedes and Santana.

"Tofu dogs and veggie burgers," Rachel announced excitedly, "Sound yummy?"

"That sounds disgusting, Rach," Santana felt her stomach turn.

"We'll be sure to bring some good old-fashioned 4th of July food for the rest of us," Mercedes assured her with a dismissive pat on the tiny diva's shoulder, "You just make sure there are enough hot dog and hamburger buns, k?"

"Oh, well…okay," Rachel pouted a little, "See you around 6:15 then?"

"See you then," Sam smiled widely, his large mouth full of sparkly white teeth showing.

* * *

><p>Finn Hudson paused a moment to shift the heavy box of soda pop and solo cups in his arms, causing a big bag of potato chips which sat on top to slide off and land on the paved path below him.<p>

"Need some help?"

Finn looked over his shoulder to see Quinn Fabray walking toward him, hand in hand with an older brunette who was holding a black guitar case in her other hand.

Quinn leaned down and picked up the bag of chips, smiling up at the very tall McKinley High football player.

"Hi," Finn returned the smile.

"Hi," Quinn greeted him, "Finn this is Cate."

"I've heard a lot about you…it's nice to finally meet you," Finn said.

"Oh? Good things, I hope," Cate smiled, her face still showing visible signs of injury.

"Puck just lit the grill…follow me," Finn told them, leading the rest of the way down a paved sidewalk to an area that had various picnic tables and grills set in the ground for group cookouts.

The girls walked behind the gangly teen, and Quinn leaned into Cate, whispering, "Finn and I used to date."

"Oh…interesting," Cate chuckled.

"Finn dates Rachel now though," Quinn clarified.

"Good," Cate smirked good-naturedly.

Quinn laughed and tightened her grip on Cate's hand.

The three of them approached the picnic table, seeing Rachel and Kurt setting out bottles of ketchup, mustard, and relish.

Blaine pulled several plastic bags of hot dog and hamburger buns from a cardboard box and brought them over to the picnic table.

"Oh, Blaine, honey…please try not to squeeze my buns," Kurt warned him.

Blaine grabbed the festively-attired teen by the hand and pulled him into an embrace, joking with him, "I'll try…but your buns are just so fabulous that it's hard to keep my hands off of them."

Kurt looked around them to see what type of audience they had in the park then lean in to kiss his boyfriend sweetly on the lips, adding with a flattered expression, "That is very true."

"Looks like we're just in time for the fireworks," Quinn joked, walking up to her group of friends.

"Quinn!" Tina exclaimed, jumping up from the picnic blanket to hug her.

"Hello," the blonde greeted the Asian girl, waving at Mike Chang who stayed seated on the ground.

"Are you Cate?" Tina asked enthusiastically.

"Guilty," the older girl confirmed, sticking out her hand as a greeting gesture.

"Forget handshakes…we hug in Glee Club," Tina smiled, leaning to hug Cate, "I'm Tina…that's my boyfriend, Mike, over there."

"Thanks for including me in your group," she said warmly.

Quinn said hello and hugged everybody else gathered around the picnic area, proudly introducing Cate. She eventually made her way over to the grill where Puck was taking off the first batch of hot dog wieners and hamburger patties and one tofu dog.

"Rachel…this sad clump of yuck is yours here," Puck pointed out to the petite brunette who grimaced back at him.

"Hey, Puck," Quinn acknowledged him directly, smiling somewhat sheepishly, uncertain as to the reception she would get from him.

The muscular teenager wiped his hands on a paper towel as he turned to face her, "Hi, Quinn…you're looking good."

"Thanks," she responded, "Puck…this is Cate…who I mentioned to you."

"Right…Cate…from the country club," Puck joked, noticing her bruised nose and the stitches over her eyebrow, "So, uh…what the hell happened to you?"

"Long story," Cate wasn't quite sure how to take the Mohawk-wearing teen.

"Gotcha…I've got a few long stories myself," he replied dryly, handing the platter of meat to Quinn, "Would you set this on the table?"

"Sure," the blonde teen nodded, taking the plate from him.

Cate followed Quinn over to the picnic table, asking, "So…what's his story?"

"Puck is a long story," Quinn smiled awkwardly.

"There seem to be a lot of those around here," Cate retorted, "What's the short version?"

"He fathered my baby," Quinn stated bluntly.

"Okay then," Cate sighed, "Note to self…avoid Puck."

Quinn laughed, "No, he's fine…he's a great guy…a good _friend_, so no worries."

"Is there anybody else here that you dated who I should know about?" Cate whispered.

"Um, yeah…that blond guy over there…Sam and I dated," Quinn confessed.

"You people sure do date each other a lot," Cate observed.

"Oh, you have no idea," Quinn laughed, putting her arms around her girlfriend.

* * *

><p>After everyone was finished eating, Quinn walked over to Santana who was sitting by herself, several yards away from the group down nearer the bank of the river. Other families had started laying out blankets and setting up lawn chairs in and around the group of Glee Clubbers in anticipation of nightfall and the annual fireworks display.<p>

"Hey you," Quinn said as she sat down on the ground next to the Latina, crossing her ankles out in front of her.

"Hey," Santana answered with a sad tone.

"You sound pretty bummed," Quinn noted, pushing up the sleeves on her navy and white striped cotton shirt, "Would that happen to be in connection to one MIA blonde?"

Santana looked over her shoulder, canvassing the groups of people who were gathering around her, disappointed when she didn't see Brittany. "I'm not sure she's going to come," she responded.

"It's early still," Quinn looked at the time on her watch, "It's only seven twenty."

Santana nodded but felt unconvinced. She had tried calling Brittany earlier in the afternoon but got her voice mail then she texted her when they got to the river to see if she was on her way but never got a response. The brunette had wanted desperately to talk to Brittany, mainly to apologize for what happened between them. She was eternally grateful that Brittany showed up at the prison to be with her for her meeting with Karofsky, but Santana wasn't sure if that was just Brittany being supportive or if that meant the blonde forgave her for what she said on Friday night.

"Why don't you come back over to the group…you're missing quite the show," Quinn informed her.

"How so?"

"Cate and Puck are trying to out play each other on guitar while Rachel and Blaine try to out sing each other," Quinn joked, "They seem determined to make their way through the entire Broadway catalog of showtunes before the fireworks start."

"Rachel will win," Santana joked back.

"I'm not so sure…she may have met her match."

Both girls laughed then Quinn stood and pulled Santana up by the arm, telling her, "Fun times…you don't want to miss this, my dear."

* * *

><p>As Santana walked up the riverbank incline with Quinn, she could see the group of Glee Club friends all sitting in a large circle around the grill that was set in the ground. Puck had converted it into a cool little firepit, and they were enjoying an impromptu sing-along.<p>

Santana looked over toward the sidewalk, subconsciously checking again for Brittany's arrival, mentally noting that the sun was starting to go down.

"There you are," Kurt, who was leaned lovingly against Blaine, acknowledged the antisocial Latina as she and Quinn walked up just as the group's song was ending.

"Don't you think it's Santana's turn to pick the next song?" Mercedes suggested with a big smile.

"No…you guys go ahead," Santana answered, distracted with the movement from another small group who were walking up the pathway.

"Actually…I think it's my turn to pick the song…," someone said from the other side of Artie's wheelchair.

Santana instantly recognized that voice, turning her head to see Brittany stand up. The brunette had been so preoccupied with looking for Brittany to arrive from the other direction that she never even noticed her sitting on the far side of the group.

She breathed a heavy sigh of relief, smiling at the tall blonde with renewed hope. "Hi…I didn't realize you got here already," Santana told her as Brittany circled around beside her.

"A few minutes ago," Brittany confirmed, smiling, "That's why I sent Quinn after you."

Santana glanced across the group as Quinn sat down between Cate and Rachel. Quinn looked up and winked knowingly at her.

Brittany sat on the blanket, pulling Santana down with her, leaning over and whispering in her ear, "I picked this song for you."

Puck and Cate both started playing their guitars, and Santana knew the melody immediately even though she was slightly confused with what was happening.

Rachel smiled widely across the circle at Santana as she started singing the song Brittany had asked her to sing for Santana:

_There's only us  
>There's only this<br>Forget regret or life is yours to miss  
>No other path<br>No other way  
>No day but today…<em>

_There's only yes  
>Only tonight<br>We must let go  
>To know what's right<br>No other road  
>No other way<br>No day but today…_

I can't control  
>My destiny<br>I trust my soul

_My only goal is _

_Just to be…_

Santana felt Brittany put her arm around her waist and pull her into her as they listened to the song that carried so much meaning for the two of them. Her heart swelled not only with love for Brittany but with the understanding that Brittany was telling her that she forgave her for the things she said. She tilted her head to lay it on Brittany's prominent shoulder as Quinn joined in, singing harmony, with Rachel to finish out the song:

_There's only now_

_There's only here  
>Give in to love<br>Or live in fear  
>No other path<br>No other way  
>No day but today…<em>

_There's only us  
>There's only this<br>Forget regret or life is yours to miss  
>No other road<br>No other way  
>No day but today…<em>

_No day but today…_

By the time the song ended, Santana wasn't sure who was crying more as she looked around the circle of her dearest friends, every one of them wiping at their eyes.

"Thank you," Santana said softly to Brittany then blew a kiss across the circle to Rachel and Quinn who smiled warmly back at her.

"There's more," Brittany responded nervously, turning to accept something that was passed around the circle from Rachel, taking a deep breath as she took the red and the white roses from Kurt who sat next to her. She sat up on her knees and turned to face Santana.

"Britt? What's going on?" Santana asked, completely perplexed by the situation.

Brittany handed the red rose to Santana, keeping the white one. "The red one signifies love...and this white one is for innocence…and when you put them together…," Brittany explained purposefully, "…they signify unity."

Santana didn't know what to say, pulling the red one to her nose to smell it, looking back up at Brittany.

"Don't worry…I looked it up on google," Brittany assured her with a smile.

Santana laughed along with the rest of the group who were intently watching the two of them in total silence, forgetting any of the other people sitting around them who may or may not have noticed any of the intimate display.

"And that's what being with you has always meant to me…unity. You understand me like nobody else ever has…or probably ever will. You're my soulmate, Santana…I feel it right here," Brittany told her, taking the Latina's hand and placing it over her heart, "And no matter how angry we may get at each other…and no matter how hard or how crazy things get sometimes…I will _never_ not love you, because then a part of me would be missing."

Santana sniffed hard as a tear rolled down her face. She looked at the face of the beautiful blonde who was looking back at her with overwhelming love in her blue eyes and a smile that only Brittany could make.

Santana ran her hand under her eyes to clear some of her tears away before she told her, "Brittany, whenever I see you smile…it's like feeling the sun on my face…it warms me…it heals me...and I want to do everything I can for the rest of my life to keep you smiling."

Brittany smiled even broader, tears filling her eyes. She pulled the black ring box from the front pocket of her denim shorts, opening it and turning it toward Santana.

"How did you get that?" Santana asked with a puzzled chuckle, glancing over at Rachel who shrugged and wiped at her wet cheeks. "I wanted to give that to you the other night…I wanted so much to…."

"Shhh…," Brittany cut her off, putting her finger over her lips to stop her explanation, smiling at her, "Santana Lopez…will you _ask_ me to marry you?"

Santana laughed, more tears escaping down her face, "Yes, of course I will."

Brittany told her, "Then put this ring on my finger and ask me."

Santana fumbled with pulling the silver ring out of the soft padding inside the black ring box, her hands shaking, and she pulled up to her knees to be more face to face with Brittany, asking her, "Brittany S. Pierce…will you marry me and be with me forever?"

Brittany saw the light of the small fire in the center of the circle flicker off the shiny silver ring as Santana nervously slipped it onto her ring finger, and with darkness falling around them, she answered her confidently, "Absolutely…forever and ever…a million times over."

The silence hanging over the group of friends exploded into applause as Santana and Brittany kissed each other, oblivious to anyone else around them.

The sound of the song _The Stars and Stripes Forever_ shot loudly out of the speakers on the nearby covered-pavilion as the fireworks display started over the water of the Lima river.

Santana and Brittany laughed at the sudden switch to the world's least romantic song, looking up into the night sky to see a spectacular pop of red, white, and blue.

"I love you so much," Santana told her, sitting on the ground and pulling Brittany backwards into her arms.

"I love you too," Brittany confirmed, holding her left hand up above her face to look at her new ring, "This is so beautiful, Santana."

"Almost as beautiful as you are," Santana leaned down to kiss the blonde laying in her lap, breathing a full breath of air for the first time all day.

Santana looked over at Rachel who was sitting with Finn's arms wrapped tightly around her then at Quinn who was cuddled close with Cate, all of them enjoying the fireworks above them. The Latina even looked back behind her and saw Artie sitting in his wheelchair just as he looked their direction, making eye contact and smiling at her, giving her a thumbs up.

She smiled back at him, mentally closing that chapter of their story and tightening her hold on Brittany as the group of friends enjoyed the rest of the fireworks display.

* * *

><p><em><strong>In the morning it comes, heaven sent a hurricane<br>Not a trace of the sun, but I don't even run from rain  
>Beating out of my chest, my heart is holding on to you<br>From the moment I knew  
>From the moment I knew…<strong>_

_**You are the air in my breath, filling up my love-soaked lungs**_  
><em><strong>Such a beautiful mess, intertwined and overrun<strong>_  
><em><strong>Nothing better than this, knowing that the storm can come<strong>_  
><em><strong>You feel just like the sun<strong>_  
><em><strong>Just like the sun…<strong>_

_**And if you say, 'be alright'  
>I'm gonna trust you, babe<br>I'm gonna look in your eyes  
>And if you say, 'be alright'<br>I'll follow you into the light…**_

Santana closed her bedroom door, locking it, turning to face Brittany.

"Come here," Brittany told her, reaching out for her.

The brunette closed the distance between them, putting her hands around Brittany's waist and pulling her into her body. She kissed her deeply, moving her hands up Brittany's back and tangling them in her cascade of blonde hair.

Brittany could feel Santana start to move them toward the bed, laying on it when she felt the back of her thighs bump against it and pulling the Latina down on top of her.

Santana deepened their kisses, running her hands up Brittany's shoulders until they were on each side of her neck.

Brittany felt Santana's tongue against her lips first then she felt the brunette probe slowly but deeply. She opened her mouth further as their tongues danced around each other, waves of pleasure moving through her, stoking her inner fire.

Their kisses continued, long and tender, their passion growing. Santana could feel her heart racing almost as much as it was the first time she kissed Brittany. Her mind wandered back to that night, remembering how surreal it seemed that her best friend was kissing her. The same best friend she had longed to kiss. The same best friend who she eventually made love to on this same night two years before.

Santana paused a moment, whispering into Brittany's ear, "Happy anniversary, baby."

Brittany smiled, breathing heavily from their intense kissing, "Would you have ever thought on that night that we'd be here now…engaged?"

"I never would have thought that night would have even happened," Santana confessed.

"I knew it would…eventually," Brittany told her, sounding very confident.

"Really?"

"I _really_ wanted to sleep with you…I just wasn't sure how to bring it up," Brittany revealed.

Santana laughed at that, knowing all Brittany would have had to say was…_you and me, here, now_…and Santana would have ripped off all her clothes.

"So like…I'm your fiancé now…how bizarre is that?" Brittany asked.

"Totally bizarre," Santana agreed, "But…totally sexy."

"Yeah?" Brittany raised her eyebrows with a sexy smirk.

"Totally…I've never made love to a fiancé before," Santana narrowed her eyes in her most sensual expression then devoured Brittany's mouth again.

Brittany felt Santana's hand move up to cup her breast through her t-shirt, but Brittany was feeling heat fill her entire body. She needed her skin to be touching Santana's immediately so she lifted up on Santana's white top, glad when the Latina rose up to help lift it over her shoulders, tossing it to the floor.

The blonde quickly reached up and unhooked Santana's bra, and they discarded that to the floor too. Brittany's hands instantly went to Santana's round, full breasts, squeezing them, pinching her nipples.

Santana moaned loudly, not caring who might be home by now. She had a newfound sense of freedom. She was in love…with a girl…and by god, she was going to make mad, passionate love to her tonight.

The two of them worked rapidly to remove all other articles of clothing, before settling back down on the bed. Brittany rolled Santana over onto her back and started a trail of kisses down her neck then her collarbone then down the center of her chest until she began to concentrate on her breasts again.

Brittany kneaded one with her fingers while she sucked on the other one, and when Santana was just about to stop breathing from all her gasping and moaning, Brittany switched to over to squeezing the other one and sucking hard on Santana's other nipple.

"Oh god…Britt," Santana choked out between moans, bringing her hands up Brittany's back and dragging her fingernails hard across Brittany's bare shoulder blades.

Santana looked down to see Brittany look up at her, and she could see just a hint of a smile in the moonlight that surrounded them. She watched as Brittany continued moving from one nipple to the other…sucking, biting, and teasing Santana's nipples to a hardness she'd never known before, and the harder she got, the more heat Santana felt in her groin.

"Britt…I need you inside me…_please_," Santana begged, nearly breathless.

Brittany knew it had been awhile since Santana felt that sensation, and she could feel the desire and the need radiating off of her.

"Are you sure it's okay?" Brittany worried about Santana's medical condition, not wanting to do any further damage.

"Please?" the brunette emphasized, arching her pelvis up into Brittany thigh.

Brittany moved her hand down between Santana's legs, and somehow with the perfect mixture of gentleness and intensity, she slipped her finger between Santana's folds, rubbing up and down several times, wetting her finger, before pushing it inside Santana's core.

"Ohhhhh…," Santana moaned, arching up again into Brittany's touch.

"That feels good, doesn't it, hon?" Brittany confirmed.

"Oh yes…sooooo good."

Brittany kissed Santana hard as she moved rhythmically inside her, feeling Santana's hips begin to rotate to her movements.

"More?" Brittany asked respectfully.

"Yes," Santana told her, feeling Brittany add a finger inside her.

Santana reached down to take over the stimulation of her clit so Brittany could focus on moving in and out of her.

Brittany held her close and sucked on Santana's nipples some more, but she found herself looking down too, thinking how erotic it was to watch Santana pleasure herself.

It wasn't too long before Brittany could feel Santana's inside walls start to clutch tighter and tighter around her fingers, making it harder to pull them out and push them back in.

Brittany could tell by the broken sound of Santana's ragged breathing and by the intense look on her face that she was getting close to climax, so she pushed herself up slightly to kiss the Latina again, leaning to whisper in her ear, "You look so beautiful right now…cum for me."

As if perfectly timed, Brittany's voice sent Santana over the edge, electricity coursing through her entire body, shattering every thought in her head, as it spread throughout her legs and abdomen.

Santana's entire body shook as the wave of her orgasm passed through her, and she grabbed Brittany's wrist with her hand that was between her legs, holding on to her, needing that connection.

The blonde just rested her head on Santana's chest, listening to her heart beat fast then slower and slower as her body finally stilled.

Neither one of them said a word for a couple of minutes. Santana just lay there as Brittany pulled her hand out of her and intertwined her fingers with hers, their trust cemented.

Once she felt relaxed again, Santana pulled her hand up with Brittany's still attached, kissing them, smelling her scent on hers and Brittany's fingers.

"Just when I think I can't love you more than I already do…somehow my heart grows just a little bit more," Santana told her.

Brittany smiled sweetly at that sentiment, nuzzling her face into Santana's neck.

"Britt?"

"Yeah?"

Santana wrapped her arms tightly around the blonde, affirming, "I will never doubt you again…I promise you that."

"Thank you," Brittany replied, kissing her softly.

Santana rolled Brittany over, kissing her harder.

Brittany brought her hand up and caressed the side of Santana's face as they kissed.

Santana could feel the metal of the ring on Brittany's finger, and she titled her head slightly to kiss it.

"I love my ring," Brittany confirmed, "The inscription is perfect."

"I'm not sure how you ended up with it…but I have a definite guess," Santana teased.

"Details don't matter now," Brittany smiled.

"I'm glad you love it, my love."

"I won't _ever_ take it off," Brittany assured her.

"Then I'm glad it's on your left hand," Santana joked, grateful Brittany was right-handed.

Brittany laughed, "Yeah, that would be an awkward story, huh?"

Santana kissed the blonde again, notifying her, "Okay, rest time is over…time for round two."

_**Never mind what I knew, nothing seems to matter now  
>Ooh, who I was without you, I can do without<br>No one knows where it ends, how it may come tumbling down  
>But I'm here with you now<br>I'm with you now…**_

**_And if you say, 'be alright'_**  
><strong><em>I'm gonna trust you, babe<em>**  
><strong><em>I'm gonna look in your eyes<em>**  
><strong><em>And if you say, 'be alright'<em>**  
><strong><em>I'll follow you into the light…<em>**

**_Let the world come rush in_**  
><strong><em>Come down hard, come crushing<em>**  
><strong><em>All I need is right here beside me<em>**  
><strong><em>I'm not enough, I swear it<em>**  
><strong><em>But take my love and wear it over your shoulders…<em>**

**_And if you say, 'be alright'_**  
><strong><em>I'm gonna trust you, babe<em>**  
><strong><em>I'm gonna look in your eyes<em>**  
><strong><em>And if you say, 'be alright'<em>**  
><strong><em>I'll follow you into the light…<em>**

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note<strong>: The songs used in this chapter are _The Cave_ by Mumford & Sons, _No Day But Today_ from the musical _Rent_, and _The Light_ by Sara Bareilles.

If you've never heard _The Light_ then please go listen to it. If you aren't thinking of Brittana and crying by the end of it then you are made of stone! ;)

So our girls are engaged now…what do y'all think about that? And were you guys satisfied with the resolve of Karofsky? Let me know your thoughts. Thank you all for your awesome comments! You guys totally keep me motivated. Kim


	26. Chapter 26

**Author's Note**: I'm so glad you guys liked the proposal in the last chapter. I tried to get it just right for y'all so it would be unique yet romantic. I love when I see you guys quote lines back to me or to each other. That's awesome! Thanks to each of you for making this a great experience.

* * *

><p><strong>Her Smile Heals Me (part 26)<strong>

Santana opened her dark brown eyes to see sunlight cascading into her bedroom, but her eyes quickly shut again. She yawned as her eyelids fluttered back and forth on the thin edge between waking up and falling back to sleep. When she finally pushed them all the way opened, she saw a very naked blonde stretched across the bed, lying on her stomach with the sheet tangled around only one of her long legs and with the other leg very much exposed.

Santana's upper lip curled into a lazy smile as her gaze scanned the length of Brittany's torso. The brunette enjoyed the definition of muscles in Brittany's toned back and the smooth flesh of her shapely backside, covered by the sheet just at the point where her butt cheek curved to meet her thigh.

Remembering the activities of the previous night sent a surge of electricity straight to Santana's core followed quickly by an overwhelming feeling of peace as she remembered that she would get to spend the rest of her life with Brittany.

The Latina shifted over by her and began a trail of kisses from the back of Brittany's neck where her long blonde hair had fallen away then down her spine and over her lower back.

Brittany slowly stirred under Santana's soft touch, snorting slightly as consciousness reclaimed her.

"Good morning," Santana said sweetly as Brittany lifted her head off the pillow and stretched a bit. She continued to kiss down Brittany's lower back, wrapping her arm around her hips and laying her head on her exposed cheeks.

"Good morning," Brittany responded, looking behind her at Santana who was lovingly draped across her lower half.

Brittany lowered her head again on her pillow, nearly fading back into sleep except that she could feel Santana delicately caressing her skin, and as she dozed, Brittany could almost swear she heard Santana softly humming.

The blonde lay there for several minutes, enjoying the physical connection, until she finally felt enough awake that she turned again to look at Santana, asking her, "Are you going to come up here and kiss me or not?"

"Absolutely," Santana confirmed with a broad smile, moving up her body and settling into her arms.

Brittany kissed Santana then said, "You smell like you showed me a good time last night."

Santana laughed then asked her in an unintended sexy voice, "Did I?"

"Definitely," Brittany smiled, kissing her hard.

"I could stay like this with you forever," Santana said, feeling Brittany's breasts pressing into hers as the blonde leaned on top of her.

Brittany ran her hand down the length of Santana's side, ending up under her leg and pulling it into her hip as they deepened their kiss. Brittany could feel warmth and wetness from between Santana's legs against her upper thigh, triggering heat deep inside Brittany.

Brittany rubbed her hand along the back of Santana's thigh and leaned further against her, pressing her pelvis into Santana's folds.

There was a firm knock at the door followed by Rachel's voice, calling, "Santana?"

"Did you hear anything?" Santana said, sounding frustrated and wrapping her arms further around Brittany's shoulders.

"Not a thing," Brittany answered breathlessly, kissing Santana harder.

There was another knock, "Santana…you need to open up please."

The Latina sighed heavily. "Oh, alright," she grumbled, sliding out from under Brittany and picking up her comforter from the floor to wrap around her body.

There was another insistent knock before Santana reached the door. She unlocked it, opening it a crack and leaning to look out, "Yes?"

"Do you not have your phone?" Rachel asked, annoyed.

"Not on me, no," she responded with a smirk, tightening the fabric around her and wondering where she last saw her cell.

"Finn's waiting down in the driveway for you…," the shorter brunette notified her.

"Oh shit…work," Santana remembered suddenly.

"Just go on without her…," Rachel said into the phone, noticing Santana's lack of clothes and her disheveled hair, adding, "…she's not quite ready."

Santana abandoned the doorway to her room, no longer caring that Rachel was intruding on their morning endeavors. Turning to try to find her phone, she said to her bed partner, "Britt…have you seen my phone?"

"I tried calling you too," Rachel stepped a little further into the room and said to Brittany, who pulled the sheet around her body and sat up.

"They're probably both still in our clothes from last night," the blonde suggested with a slight blush to her fair skin.

"Burt's going to be so pissed," Santana mumbled as she dug around on the floor, finding her skirt and pulling her phone from its front pocket.

"Don't worry, Finn said he'd cover for you until you get there," Rachel assured her.

"That's really nice of him," Santana said, scanning through her texts that had collected since last night.

"Once you get a shower…and you clearly need one," Rachel raised her eyebrows in jovial judgment, "I'll be happy to drive you over there."

Santana smiled at the thought of a shower with Brittany, "Mmm…a shower?"

Brittany smiled too.

"Santana!" Rachel could see where this was leading, "Hurry, please."

"Yeah, yeah," Santana pushed the petite brunette out into the hallway, careful not to lose her grip on the comforter wrapped around her, "See you in a few, Rach."

She shut the door again and locked it then walked back over to the bed, dropping the comforter to the floor as she climbed back on the bed and into Brittany's arms, saying, "Now…where were we?"

* * *

><p>Santana jumped out of the back seat of Rachel's SUV later that morning, waving quickly to Brittany in the passenger seat, as she ran into Burt's shop. As she walked around a car that was in the front work stall, she saw Chuck and Finn nearby, putting a new set of tires on a silver pick-up truck.<p>

Burt stepped from inside the small office and said loudly, "There she is."

Santana stopped in her tracks, fearful that her morning was about to get further off track. Burt smiled broadly and started a hearty round of applause that Chuck and Finn stopped what they were doing to join.

"I've been told congratulations are in order," he said to her, walking over toward her.

"For…?" Santana looked confused.

"Your engagement," Burt said excitedly, giving her a hug, "That's wonderful!"

Santana's look changed from dread to a relieved smile and a slight blush of her tanned cheeks as she hugged Burt in return. "Thank you, Burt…I appreciate the support."

"Come out here…I want to show you something," he pulled her by the elbow until they were out in the fenced parking lot behind the shop. He stopped and pointed at an older, charcoal gray Honda Civic that had a very flat tire on the back passenger side.

"It's a flat tire," Santana observed aloud.

"Very good…roll up your sleeves cause you're about to learn how to change it," he told her in his no-nonsense manner.

Santana swallowed hard. She did tell him she wanted to learn things while working at the shop, and clearly, he was taking her at her word.

"Come back here," he motioned her to the trunk of the car, "Undo this section which covers the spare."

Santana followed his instructions, twisting the floor lock until it opened and she could lift it off, leaning it against the back of the car.

"Now, lift out the spare," Burt told her.

Santana reached in and pulled on the full-sized spare tire, working it out of the back and landing it with a thud on the ground.

"Good job, roll it over here," he encouraged her.

She wiped at a wayward lock of long hair, the rest already pulled up into a big ponytail.

"Ok, take this jack and slide it up under here," he showed her then stepped back for her to do it.

"Burt…," Santana started with self-doubt, "I can't jack up this car."

"Nah, I don't want to hear that…can't never could, kid," he stopped her objection, "You never know when you might be out on the road somewhere and blow a tire…I want the two of you to be safe and to know how to handle the situation."

Santana beamed from his paternal concern showing toward her. She craved that type of connection so much lately, and even though she got nothing back from her biological father, she was cognizant of how fortunate she was to have the Berrys and Burt in her life to fill the void.

"Now go on…slide that part up under there," he continued, kneeling down to demonstrate, "then pump this part, and you'll feel the car lifting up."

She pushed up the sleeves of her oversized coveralls and followed his instructions, putting all the strength she had in her thin arm into jacking up the car.

"So what's your plan on this marriage idea?" Burt asked her bluntly.

"What do you mean?" she asked in confusion, pausing a moment to rest and wipe the sweat from her brow.

"Well, not to take away from the romance of it all…but you and Brittany _are_ using your heads about this?" he clarified, "Waiting until you two move to New York, right?"

"Yeah, of course…," Santana confirmed with a frown, looking up at him as if it never crossed her mind as to timing, "…it's not like we can get married in Ohio."

"Just enjoy being young right now…there's always time for grown up things later on," Burt reminded her, guiding her to remove the hubcap to take off the flat tire from the car.

"Do you not think Britt and I can make it together?" Santana needed some sort of confirmation from someone she respected.

"No, I'm not saying that…I mean, if any set of high school sweethearts can stick things out, I'd put my money on you two. I'm just saying, don't rush this part of your lives. Things aren't always the same once you're out in the real world…marriage changes everything. There are pressures you can't begin to fathom as a teenager," he advised her cautiously, "Just take your time…you two will know when the timing is right…ok?"

"Ok, Burt," Santana agreed, "Thank you."

"No problem…you have any concerns about anything…you come talk to me," he assured her.

She smiled at him as he guided her with putting the spare on and lowering the car back to the ground.

"Look there…you changed your first flat tire on your own car," he said proudly, "How does that feel?"

"It feels exhausting…but great," she joked, adding with a furrowed brow, "Wait…on _my_ car?"

"Yes, ma'am…keys are in it," he winked at her, "I'll get you hooked up with a new spare."

"But Burt…I can't afford this car," she informed him.

"You're right, you can't…that's why I'm giving it to you," he said as he wiped his hands on a red cloth, "I talked to your dads yesterday…they'll set you up with insurance and you can use what you make here to pay for that."

"Burt…I don't know what to say," Santana was at a loss.

"Just say 'thank you'…and leave it at that."

"But Kurt…," Santana started, trying to wrap her head around this huge gesture.

"…didn't want it," Burt cut her off, "I offered it to him several months ago, and he turned it down…something about the gray clashing with his skin tone. It's just been sitting here in the lot ever since. I need the space, and you need transportation…so there ya go…perfect solution."

Santana felt tears forming in her eyes. She hugged him tightly and said simply, "Thank you."

* * *

><p>Brittany stood in the kitchen of the Pierce home Tuesday evening, washing dishes at the sink. As she rinsed a dinner plate, she internally admired the silver ring that was on the fourth finger of her left hand. She put the plate in the dishwasher then turned off the faucet.<p>

As she wiped her hands on a cloth towel, she heard her little sister say, "Pretty ring, B! That one's new."

Brittany instantly stuck her left hand in the side pocket of her cotton shorts, giving a side-glance to her mother who stood at the center island, putting the leftovers from dinner into a storage container.

Mrs. Pierce walked behind her daughters to set the dirty serving dish in the sink. She turned and asked with interest, "Oh, did you get a new ring? Let's see it."

Brittany's breath caught in her chest, not prepared for this conversation with either of her parents. _Thanks a lot, Em_…Brittany mentally grumbled, glaring down at the curious child.

Her mother was perceptive enough to notice Brittany continued to awkwardly stand with her hand in her pocket, concealing something. Intrigued, she pulled on the teen's arm until her hand was in full sight.

"What a unique design," she admired, "Did you get this recently."

Brittany hesitated before answering, "Yesterday."

Mrs. Pierce also noticed the placement of the ring, knowing Brittany always wore her other silver ring on the middle finger of her right hand.

"Oh?" her mother turned to rinse the serving dish to add it to the dishwasher, "Well, it's very pretty."

"Thanks," Brittany responded cautiously, adding dishwasher liquid to the small hole inside the door of the dishwasher.

"Emily, darling…why don't you head upstairs. It's bath time," her mother instructed.

"Can I play with my mermaid doll tonight?" the little blonde asked.

"Yes, go ask your dad to run you some water," Mrs. Pierce told her.

"Bubbles too?" the seven-year-old giggled, knowing she was probably pushing her luck.

"Bubbles too…now go!" her mother playfully swatted her on the backside with the cloth towel.

Brittany finished getting the dishwasher going and turned to make a hasty exit from the kitchen before she was left alone with her mother.

"Not so fast," Mrs. Pierce stated sternly.

Brittany stopped in her tracks, her back still turned to her mother.

"So, let me see your ring again."

Brittany turned around to face her mother, holding out her left hand.

"The design really is beautiful, Britt...," Mrs. Pierce held her daughter outstretched hand, inspecting it closely, "The intertwined hearts is an interesting choice for you."

"Thank you…I loved it the moment I saw it," Brittany smiled, hoping this conversation would end soon.

"Interesting placement too," her mother noted, inspecting Brittany's face for a reaction, "On your ring finger there."

Brittany could feel her face blush but was powerless to stop it.

"Is there something you want to tell me?" the older woman asked directly.

Brittany swallowed hard, "Well…what do you want to know?"

Her mother raised her eyebrows, "Brittany Susan Pierce…you know what I'm asking. Is that an engagement ring?"

"Yes," she answered truthfully, blushing a deeper shade of red, "Are you angry?"

"You're seventeen years old, and you live in Lima, Ohio." Mrs. Pierce reminded her.

"We won't live here forever, Mom," the teen assured her, "Santana and I are moving to New York after graduation. We're allowed to get married there."

Mrs. Pierce nodded silently.

"You're angry," Brittany said sadly.

"No…I just worry."

"Santana's my whole heart, Mom…I could never love someone else more than I love her."

"I know," Mrs. Pierce smiled genuinely, "You two really do seem like a perfect match."

Brittany put her arms around her mother, "Then just be happy for me…_please_?"

"I _am_ happy for you, baby…all I've ever wanted was for you to fall in love and to be loved in return…and if that is what you've found with Santana then I will fight for your right to experience that."

"Thank you, Mom…I love you so much."

"I love you too, sweetheart…," Mrs. Pierce stated as she tightened her embrace around her oldest child then added jovially, "…but you're the one who is telling your dad."

* * *

><p>Santana leaned forward to change the radio station in the Civic that Burt gave her, pulling her hand back to take Brittany's hand.<p>

"It's awesome that you have a car again," Brittany said, pulling Santana's hand to her face and kissing it.

"I couldn't believe it when Burt said he was giving it to me," Santana grinned broadly, "It's the coolest thing ever."

Santana was so excited to be able to drive over to Brittany's house to pick her up Wednesday evening. She didn't care that this car was not as new or as flashy as her Mustang. She had come to rely on everyone around her for transportation to get anywhere so now having a car of her own again gave her a new sense of freedom.

"You've worked so hard to get your life back on track, honey…We're all so proud of you," Brittany commented.

"Thanks, love," Santana was starting to feel proud of herself too.

"So where exactly are we going?" Brittany only knew that Santana texted her earlier in the evening and told her to be ready at seven-thirty, "You're being so secretive."

"I don't know either…Quinn sent me an address and told me to bring you there at eight o'clock tonight," Santana explained.

The girls continued to drive as they followed the mapping system on their phone which was taking them to the eastern edge of town.

"Slow down…I think this is it on the right up here," Brittany instructed, looking at the dot on the street map on her phone's screen.

Santana slowed the Civic to turn into a parking lot that was already mostly full.

"There's a space there," Brittany pointed out.

Santana stopped briefly for a group of young people to cross the driveway in front of her car then she pulled into the empty space and they got out, locking the doors behind them.

Brittany circled around the back of the car to take Santana by the hand as they walked up to the front door, seeing there was a line forming along the side of the building.

"What is this place?" Brittany asked loudly over the thump of music filtering out from inside as the girls took their place in line.

"I have no idea, but Quinn said to text her when we arrived," Santana stated, typing a message to the former head cheerleader.

Brittany linked her arm with Santana's, cuddling close to shield her body from the night wind, wishing she'd brought a light jacket to wear over her sleeveless top.

"Cold?" Santana asked, rubbing her hand up and down Brittany's exposed arm to generate some heat for her.

Santana didn't have on much more clothing than Brittany, wearing a short black skirt and a tight-fitting purple shirt.

It wasn't but a minute or two longer before they heard a familiar voice call out their names. They looked toward the front of the building to see Quinn walking in their direction.

"Hey!" the beautiful blonde greeted them each with a tight hug, "You two look gorgeous…come with me, we're inside."

"Who's we?" Santana asked, allowing herself to be pulled into the interior of the building by Quinn.

"You'll see," Quinn said sheepishly over her shoulder.

The shorter blonde weaved a path for the three of them through the teens and young adults who were congregated in and around the tables and booths that were set in the center of the floor. As they moved through the crowd, Santana looked up and around the inside of the building, holding tightly to Brittany's hand so they didn't get separated.

The Latina could tell the building was an old warehouse that had been converted into some sort of music venue. There were multi-levels of dance floors above them, and there was quite a crowd of young people gathered there for a Wednesday night.

"Here we are," Quinn yelled out over the piped-in music, bringing Santana and Brittany up to a large booth set in the center of the floor.

"Hiiiii!" several shrill female voices screamed out at their arrival.

The newly-engaged couple was elated to see all their girlfriends from Glee Club gathered together.

"Surprise!" Rachel called out, grinning ear to ear.

"So _this_ is why you didn't want to ride with us," Santana laughed, hugging the smaller brunette.

"What's this for?" Brittany asked, hugging Mercedes who sat on the opposite end of the booth.

"It's a celebration," Tina told them as Brittany and Santana pushed into the booth between Rachel and Quinn.

"A celebration?" Santana asked.

"Yes, we're celebrating your engagement," Tina expanded.

"It's Girls Night Out!" Mercedes added with a big smile.

"Is there a band playing here tonight?" Brittany inquired, turning to Quinn who sat to her left.

"Yeah, it's a girl band called Zap…they asked Cate to play guitar with them tonight," Quinn said proudly.

A waitress came up to their table, asking them, "Has anyone taken your drink order?"

"Is this a bar?" Santana wasn't sure how they got in.

"Yes, but Tuesdays and Wednesdays are dry during the summer so they don't check IDs," Quinn explained.

"I'll have a diet coke with a lime," Mercedes ordered.

"Bottled water please," Tina asked.

"Um…7Up and cranberry," Rachel smiled, feeling sophisticated with her request.

Santana laughed at her, though she was privately enjoying the cool factor of them all being out at a bar even if they couldn't order alcohol. She decided to join in Rachel's fun, telling the waitress, "Same for me."

"Same," Brittany smiled.

"Same," Quinn nodded to the waitress, handing over her credit card, "Just start a tab please."

"No problem…be right back," the twentyish-looking girl responded with a smile.

"Hey, good lookin'…you here with anybody tonight?" a female voice said from behind the booth near Quinn.

The blonde turned around and cackled when she saw Cate standing there, "Hey, you!"

Cate leaned over the booth and kissed Quinn on the lips then acknowledged the group, "Hey, everyone!"

They all said, "Hi, Cate."

"I can't stay long…we go on in fifteen minutes, but I just wanted to see if they had your table for you," she said.

"Yes, it was reserved when we got here," Rachel informed her, "Thank you so much!"

"My pleasure…I'm just so glad you all could come out tonight," Cate said grateful for the support.

The waitress returned with the group's drinks, passing around the plastic cups of soda, as the house lights flashed.

"Ok, I've got to get back…I hope you all enjoy the set…there's another band playing after us too if you feel like sticking around," Cate said, kissing Quinn again.

"Good luck!" they all told her, seeing her wave back at them as she headed toward the stage.

"Ok, ladies…a toast?" Quinn raised her cup.

"Yes, definitely…a toast is in order," Tina agreed.

"Everybody, get your cup up in the air for these two girls," Mercedes raised up her diet coke, smiling, "Britt…Santana…we weren't sure how long it would take the two of you to realize what the rest of us saw every day…but we couldn't be happier for you guys!"

Santana smiled, slightly embarrassed, leaning back into Brittany's embrace as the blonde wrapped her right arm around Santana's waist.

"We've come a long way, you and I…," Rachel said warmly to Santana who sat next to her, "…but in the end, I didn't just get a sister…I'll get a sister-in-law too!" The petite brunette threw her arms around both Santana and Brittany, saying, "I love you both."

"We love you too, Rach…," Santana responded, holding up her own plastic cup, "We love each of you girls…senior year is going to be awesome."

"Yes it is!" Quinn chimed in.

Tina looked as teary-eyed as the rest of the girls, telling them all, "It's taken two years, but we are _all _happily in love now. This is just so exciting!"

"Agreed!" Quinn smiled, leaning forward so they could all click their cups together, "To the Glee Girls!"

They all settled back into the booth when the room darkened and the stage lit up as Zap started playing.

Quinn's eyes instantly went to the attractive brunette playing lead guitar, and she clapped loudly, hollering, "Yay, Cate!"

The rest of the girls looked over at her, laughing affectionately at her shameless display of love.

* * *

><p>Later that night, Santana knocked on Rachel's bedroom door, opening it when she heard the tiny diva tell her, "Come in."<p>

"Here are your earrings," the Latina said, removing the second one, "Thanks again for letting me borrow them."

"No problem…just set them there on my dresser," Rachel told her. She was lying on her stomach across the foot of her bed, already dressed in her pajamas and flipping through a fashion magazine.

"Tonight meant a lot to me and Britt so thank you," Santana stopped to say, leaning against one of the posts on Rachel's four-poster bed.

The smaller brunette looked up at her, stating with a melancholy tone, "Yeah, it was fun to all be together like that."

Santana frowned. "You don't sound like you had much fun."

Rachel sighed heavily, looking back down at her magazine.

"Rachel?"

She looked back up at Santana with tears in her eyes.

"Are you upset about something?"

Rachel started crying so Santana kneeled down at the side of her bed.

"Tell me what's wrong," the Latina prodded her.

"I'm fine…really," Rachel sniffed and wiped at her eyes.

"Yes, you look totally fine too," Santana softly teased.

"I'm just sad…and I can't really figure out why," she confessed.

Santana removed her sandals and sat further on the floor so she was face to face with Rachel. She closed the magazine and tossed it over onto the floor. "Talk to me."

"When Tina said tonight that we were _all_ finally in love, and I looked around at all of your faces…and all of you truly are in love…like real love…like soulmate kind of love…."

"Rachel," Santana cut off her ramblings, "What's your point?"

"I don't feel that," she said sadly.

"You don't love Finn?"

"I love him…I just don't think I love him like you love Brittany…or Quinn loves Cate…or Tina loves Mike."

"Ok, I get it," Santana interrupted her again, "I always thought you did though."

"I always thought I did too…I mean, he's wonderful…he's sweet and affectionate and loyal."

"Sounds like you're describing your dog," Santana joked cautiously.

"Exactly!" Rachel agreed, "I need to be challenged…intellectually…and artistically…and…."

"Spiritually?" Santana offered with a grimace, knowing that Finn, as nice a guy as he was, would never provide these things for Rachel.

"I thought he was all I ever wanted…until I started thinking about him being all I'd ever have." Rachel sighed again.

She had already started thinking about graduating next year and about how Finn would fit into her life in New York and in the theatre world. She wanted to be a huge star. No, it was more than that…she _knew_ she would be a huge star…someday. She never wanted to hurt Finn, because she did love him. If she was honest with herself though, and with Finn, she knew she was outgrowing him.

"Do you think what I have with Finn is true love?" she asked Santana.

"I think that there are a lot of people you will meet in New York," Santana tried to encourage her without being too strident.

"The idea of that excites me," Rachel admitted.

"If you can see yourself without the other person then no…I don't think it is true love," Santana confirmed, putting a supportive arm around Rachel's shoulders.

* * *

><p>Santana nervously pulled on the bottom of her cotton shirt before she reached up and pushed the doorbell Thursday evening.<p>

She looked around at the decorative chairs and planters that were on the porch, remembering how much her mother enjoyed having the colorful flowers in front of the house. Santana realized that this was the first time she stood on the porch of her childhood home since the day she and Brittany were told by her father to leave.

The door opened and her mother greeted her enthusiastically, "Santana!"

"Hi, Mom," the teen smiled warmly at the older woman, stepping inside to give her a hug.

"Come in, come in."

Santana followed her mother into the living room and sat on the couch next to her, feeling oddly disconnected from the familiar furniture.

"I'm so glad you called," Mrs. Lopez turned toward her daughter, "Are you hungry? Thirsty?"

"Oh, no...I had dinner before I came over," she told her, crossing her legs at the knees and shoving her phone into the front pocket of her jeans.

"Would you care for some hot tea…anything?" her mother tried again, wanting so much to make Santana feel welcomed.

"No, Mom…I'm fine…really," Santana took her mom's hand, "Thank you though."

"So what is this big news you wanted to share with me?"

"Well," Santana took a deep breath, becoming more accustomed to revealing big secrets to her mother, "I started to ask you to come to another one of my sessions with Dr. Shane in order to tell you this, but I decided that we've been more open with each other lately and that I could just come right out and tell you."

"Santana, I never know these days what you're going to tell me, but you're starting to worry me now," Mrs. Lopez stated with a look of concern on her face.

"Ok, you're right…I'm sorry…there's no need to worry," Santana laughed lightly, "This is a good thing…_I_ think so anyway."

"What is it?"

Santana pulled her arm back and nervously rubbed her hands together. She licked at her dry lips, and the ponytail on top of her head bobbed as she fidgeted slightly in her seat. _Yeah, this isn't getting any easier_, she privately noted.

"Just tell me, Santana."

"I asked Brittany to marry me," she blurted out.

Mrs. Lopez just stared back at her in silence.

"She said yes," Santana smiled guardedly.

Mrs. Lopez glanced down.

"Mom?"

The older Latina looked back up at her, swallowing hard before saying with reserved emotion, "Congratulations."

"I know that it might take some time for that to sink in…I understand…it still seems rather bizarre to us too," she tried to make her mother feel more at ease with the idea.

"It is certainly…unexpected," Mrs. Lopez stated.

"It won't be anytime soon…so don't worry about that part. Believe me, everyone has made sure to point out that we are too young right now and that we shouldn't rush into anything."

"You are quite young," she responded.

"It won't be until after we move to New York…_after_ graduation…probably even after college," Santana explained, "Education is still very important to me."

"That's good," Mrs. Lopez breathed heavily, standing up, "Are you sure about the tea?"

Santana stood and followed her mother into the nearby kitchen, "Mom…stop."

She caught up to her mother and tugged on her arm.

"Aren't you happy for me?"

Mrs. Lopez paused before answering, "I'm happy that you are happy."

"What does that mean?"

Her mother turned back around and took the tea kettle off the back of the stove, walking over to the sink to fill it with water.

"I gave Brittany a ring and everything…so like, it's official…like a real engagement," Santana found herself needing to convince her mother, perhaps even to convince herself.

"A ring?" That seemed to make the older woman even less comfortable with the idea.

"Yes. It'll be a _real_ marriage, Mom…with a real wedding."

Santana watched her mother turn off the water and wipe the bottom of the kettle with a dry cloth. It was clear she was trying to process this influx of information.

"Are you planning to do this in the church, Santana?" her mother asked hesitantly.

"I'm not sure…it will depend on what Brittany wants too," Santana answered honestly.

"It is one thing to pursue this…idea of marriage…but in the eyes of God, Santana…I'm just not sure it's appropriate," her mother said as she moved back to the stove, turning on the burner under the kettle.

"Are you saying that my marriage to Brittany will be a sin?"

"Santana," Mrs. Lopez sighed, not wanting to hurt her daughter.

"Just _please_ say you will come…," Santana had tears in her eyes, disappointed that this wasn't going as well as she anticipated, "You will, won't you?"

"Of course," her mother confirmed through tight lips.

"I wouldn't ask Dad to give me away or anything so you don't need to worry about all that," the young brunette said sadly, "I just want _you_ to be part of it. It would mean a lot to me, and by the time we plan it then maybe you'll feel more comfortable with the whole idea."

Mrs. Lopez nodded, leaning toward her daughter, "I will help you anyway I can."

Santana hugged her mother tightly, grateful for the progress they were slowly making.

"I don't think it's wise to tell your father about any of this though," the older woman warned her.

"Tell me what?" a deep voice asked from the doorway of the kitchen.

Santana pulled away quickly from her mother, standing up straight and pulling at her shirt again.

"Oh nothing, Hector," his wife said dismissively, adding, "You're home early."

"My meeting with the hospital board was rescheduled," he informed them.

"I should go," Santana said.

"What brought you by here tonight, Santana?" her father asked, stepping further into the kitchen.

"She was just passing by, Hector," Mrs. Lopez covered.

"I was asking Santana," he said sternly, unconvinced that he wasn't interrupting something, as he set his briefcase in a kitchen chair and placed his suit jacket over the back of it.

"Um…nothing really," she shrugged, unsure of how to even talk to him anymore.

"You both look upset…what were you two talking about?" he pursued.

Santana looked down, angry with herself. She always allowed her father to reduce her down to nothing in his presence, and she was simply tired of feeling that way around him.

"I was telling Mom my great news," she said boldly, pushing her shoulders back and glancing over at her mother who shook her head.

"Santana," the older Latina cautioned.

"What news?" Dr. Lopez asked.

The teenager took a step closer to him and looked him in the face, "Brittany and I are engaged."

"Engaged?" he looked horrified, hoping that word did not mean the same to his daughter as it meant to the rest of society.

"That's right…engaged," she said proudly, smiling at him, "I'm going to marry a girl, Daddy…the most awesome girl in the whole world…and there's not a damn thing you can do to stop us."

Hector Lopez drew back his hand and slapped Santana hard across her left cheek.

Santana's hands instantly went up to cover her stinging cheek as she looked back at him in shock.

"Get out," he said firmly, pointing to the entryway.

Santana ran past him toward the front door.

"And don't come back to this house," Dr. Lopez shouted angrily, "Ever!"

"Santana!" her mother called after her.

Santana did not stop though. She ran out of the front door and down the porch steps to get into her gray Civic. She pulled her keys out of her pocket and started the ignition before she lowered her head on the steering wheel and sobbed.

* * *

><p>Mrs. Pierce was folding laundry in the living room Thursday evening when the doorbell rang.<p>

She finished folding the towel in her lap then set it aside, looking at the clock on a nearby table. 7:47 pm.

"Who could that be?" she said aloud to nobody.

Before she reached the door, there was another ring.

"I'm coming, I'm coming…just a second," the older woman said as she turned the knob and opened it.

Standing on the porch was Santana.

"Brittany's not here, dear," Mrs. Pierce told the Latina.

"Will she be back soon?" Santana had driven directly to see Brittany after she drove away from her parents' house. Even before the evening's events, she didn't consider it her home any longer, feeling more and more like a member of the Berry family.

"Not too long, I'm sure…she went jogging," her mother said.

"Okay," Santana didn't know what to do so she turned around to walk back to her car.

"Santana, you can wait inside, sweetheart," Mrs. Pierce laughed.

The brunette turned around, "Ok…sorry."

"Don't be…come on in," Mrs. Pierce invited her inside.

Once they were in the light of the living room, the older Pierce noticed Santana's face.

"What happened to you?" she asked with concern, putting her hand up to the teen's cheek.

Santana turned her head out of reach, "Nothing…I should just go." She turned quickly toward the front door, but Brittany's mother grabbed her by the arm, turning her back around.

"Santana, somebody hit you…were you in a fight?"

Tears filled Santana's eyes again, the pain and humiliation of her father's reaction still close to the surface.

"Oh, sweetheart…what happened?" Mrs. Pierce put her arms around Santana and pulled her close.

"I told my parents something important tonight, and my dad…he, uh," Santana wasn't sure what she should be saying in front of Brittany's parents.

"Was it about your engagement to Brittany?" she inquired delicately.

"You know about that?"

"Yes, Brittany told me about it."

"When I told my dad…he hit me," Santana choked out.

"Come in the kitchen, and let's get you some ice to put on it," Mrs. Pierce put an arm around the young girl's shoulders, guiding her toward the kitchen.

Brittany's mom flipped on the light switch inside the spacious area and walked Santana over to the bar stool that was at the center island. She got a small zip-lock bag out of the cabinet then put a few ice cubes in it, turning to put it on Santana's bright red cheek.

"This should take some of the heat out of it…and help with any bruising," Mrs. Pierce ran her hand down the back of Santana's head as the Latina put her own hand over the plastic baggie.

"Thank you," the teenager said, sniffing back some of her tears.

"Here's a tissue too," the older woman handed her a Kleenex from a nearby box.

"Thanks." Santana wiped at her nose as she sat on the stool and held the ice to her burning face, "You aren't mad at us about it?"

"About you two getting engaged?" Mrs. Pierce clarified.

"Yes…or married?"

"Why would I be mad? You love Brittany, she loves you…right?"

Santana nodded.

"Then once you two are old enough to shoulder such an enormous commitment…we will be delighted to see you marry our daughter."

Santana smiled, grimacing when she did because of the intense pain in her face.

The two of them were quiet for a minute, hearing the front door open and Brittany pass by the kitchen.

The tall blonde stopped and backed up, seeing that it was Santana in the kitchen with her mom.

"Hey, I thought that was your car in the driveway," Brittany stated. She was dressed in black running shorts and a tight-fitting, pink tank top. Her iPod was secured to her upper arm with a running band, and she was sweating profusely.

Neither of them responded.

"What happened?" Brittany asked when she saw that Santana was holding a bag of ice.

"Can we talk about it in your room?" Santana asked, looking over at Mrs. Pierce.

"Sure," Brittany said, curious as to what was going on.

The two girls made their way upstairs, and as soon as they got inside Brittany's room, she closed and locked the door.

She immediately walked up to Santana, putting her hand up to her cheek and feeling a hard knot forming just under the skin, "Oh my god, Tan…that's really bad. What the hell happened?"

Santana explained to her everything that happened when she went to see her mom.

"She still thinks me being a lesbian is this huge sin…I can see it in her face."

"Come here," Brittany pulled Santana into a tight embrace, "We can't help who we fall in love with."

"I know," Santana sounded so defeated, lowering her head on Brittany's prominent shoulder.

"I smell bad, huh?" Brittany asked.

"You do smell very sweaty," Santana laughed a little.

"Let me get a quick shower then we'll talk," Brittany suggested.

"Okay."

Brittany kissed her then went into the interior bathroom. After a minute, Santana heard the water start running. She slipped off her shoes and was about to relax on the bed when the bathroom door opened again.

Brittany stuck out her head and asked, "Unless…you want to join me for a bath?"

Santana smiled broadly.

"Is that a yes?" Brittany smiled back.

Santana walked back over to the bathroom door, kissing Brittany sweetly, "The answer to that question will always be yes."

The brunette took off her clothes and joined Brittany in the bathroom where she'd already starting collecting water in the tub.

Santana watched the blonde add the lavender-scented bath salts that she loved so much then she grabbed a couple of washcloths and towels out of the upper cabinet and set them near the tub.

Brittany turned toward Santana, offering her outstretched hand, "After you."

Santana grinned, taking Brittany's hand and allowing her to assist her down into the bath water. The Latina leaned forward to shut off the faucet as Brittany lowered herself into the tub behind Santana, reaching up to pull the brunette back against her.

Santana handed one of the washcloths back to Brittany, getting the other one all soapy.

She enjoyed feeling Brittany's firm breasts pressed against her bare back as she reclined against her. She pulled up one of Brittany's long legs and ran the soapy cloth over it to get it clean.

As Santana washed Brittany's limbs, she gently splashed some of the bubbles over Santana's tanned shoulders. To avoid getting her dark hair wet, Brittany wound Santana's ponytail into a bun on top of her head, tucking inside itself, then she kissed her softly along her neck.

"I just can't believe he hit me," Santana said, the event still weighing heavily on her mind.

Brittany didn't say anything, allowing Santana to think out loud.

"When we have kids, I will never…ever…treat them like that," the Latina said adamantly, "We'll treat our kids with respect."

Brittany smiled into Santana's skin, "Kids?"

Santana relaxed further into Brittany behind her, "Don't you want kids?"

"Definitely," the blonde assured her, "I think you will make a wonderful mother."

"You will too," Santana smiled, pulling Brittany's arm around her bare chest.

"I love you," Brittany confirmed.

"I love you too."

The girls were quiet for several moments, holding each other.

Santana couldn't shake her thoughts of her father and how incredibly angry he was. She pulled her hand to her cheek and pushed on it lightly, instantly feeling a sharp pain from the pressure she applied.

"My face really hurts," Santana said dishearteningly, "He practically slugged me he hit me so hard."

Brittany felt it again, finding it still hot. "Here, put this on it," she placed a folded, wet washcloth to Santana's face.

The blonde gently caressed Santana's wet arms. The sound of the warm water moving around their bodies was comforting to them.

As Brittany held her, Santana started crying. "He threw me out of the house again," she revealed through her fresh tears, "I got thrown out _twice_."

"I'm so sorry." The insult wasn't lost on Brittany. She was angry too that he would dare lay a hand on Santana, but she held her tongue, not wanting to make Santana feel worse about the situation.

"I hate him, Britt…I don't care if I ever see him again."

Brittany wrapped her arms tightly around Santana, letting her cry out her hurt, "It'll be okay, honey…what we have together is between us…nobody else's opinion matters."

**Wise men say,**

**only fools rush in**

**Oh, but I can't help**

**falling in love with you...**

**Shall I stay,**

**Would it be a sin**

**If I can't help**

**falling in love with you...**

**Like a river flows,**

**surely to the sea**

**Darling, so it goes,**

**Some things were meant to be...**

**So take my hand,**

**and take my whole life too**

**Cause I can't help**

**falling in love with you...**

**Like a river flows, **

**so surely to the sea**

**Oh my darling, so it goes**

**Some things are meant to be...**

**So won't you please, just take my hand,**

**and take my whole life too**

**Cause I can't help**

**falling in love, in love with you,**

**Cause I can't help**

**falling in love, falling in love,**

**I keep falling in love with you.**

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>: The song _Can't Help Falling In Love_ is at its most vulnerable in Ingrid Michaelson's rendition. Her version of this song is incredibly moving and beautiful and reminds me so much of the struggles Brittany and Santana go through just to be together.

As always, I appreciate your feedback on this chapter. Thanks, Kim


	27. Chapter 27

**Her Smile Heals Me (part 27)**

**Saturday, July 23rd**

**9:02 pm**

"Ok, this one…or this one?" Santana asked as she turned around from the closet, holding up two new swimsuits she bought on a recent trip to the mall with Rachel.

Brittany was sitting on the floor at the foot of the bed, leaning over Santana's suitcase, helping her fold her clothes to pack for their trip to the beach. She looked up, eyeing the bright pink bikini instantly. "That one…definitely," she pointed to it with a sensual smirk.

"This one?" the Latina confirmed, pondering, "It's not too…."

"Oh, it's _too_ alright…waaay too sexy for public viewing," Brittany stood up and closed the distance between them, pulling Santana into her arms for a kiss then adding in a suggestive tone, "but once you put that one on, I'll keep you busy _inside_ the cabin."

Santana laughed and kissed Brittany again. "So I should bring the other one too?"

"That's probably a good idea if you want to actually make it down to the beach," Brittany teased, playfully squeezing the curve of Santana's backside with both her hands, "And _not_ be arrested."

The two girls laughed and kissed again, hearing a knock on Santana's opened bedroom door.

"Sorry to interrupt," Rachel said cautiously, peeking around the doorway.

Brittany pulled away from Santana with a grin, mentally envisioning Santana in the pink bikini.

"You're not…come on in," Santana told the smaller brunette.

"We're just goofing around," Brittany assured her.

"Packing for the trip?" Rachel observed.

"We leave in the morning," Brittany answered excitedly.

"Ten whole hours in a car," Santana groaned.

"But, then…," Brittany redirected their focus with her excitement, "…five full days of fun in the sun."

Rachel smiled at them but continued to stand awkwardly by the doorway.

"You're back early, Rach," Santana commented, looking over at the clock on her nightstand, "How did your date go?"

Rachel was dressed up in a typical Rachel frock, a colorful sundress with child-like charm. When she left the house two hours earlier, it was obvious to Santana and Brittany that she was dressed up for a special outing with Finn, even though Rachel had seemed rather subdued.

"It was…interesting," Rachel said with some hesitation in her voice.

"Was dinner good?" Brittany asked casually, making conversation as she kneeled back in front of Santana's black suitcase.

"Um, well…we decided to skip dinner tonight," Rachel answered cryptically, still standing back a little from Santana and Brittany.

Santana turned back around from the closet, handing two pairs of sandals to Brittany. Santana had truly started seeing Rachel through sister-like eyes and picked up on her slight jitteriness. Tilting her head in slight confusion, she asked, "Rachel, did something…_happen_ tonight?"

She smiled nervously before revealing, "I slept with Finn."

"Oh wow…that's…uh…," Santana didn't quite know what to say to that declaration, never being one to deal too well with sex or sensitive feelings.

"That's a really big step for you," Brittany took over, seeing Santana struggling with the appropriate reaction. She reached out a hand to Rachel and pulled her down to the floor, "Do you feel okay?"

The tiny Glee Club diva nodded. "I guess…I mean, yes…Finn was really very sweet…and attentive…and…," she trailed off.

"And…?" Santana sat to the floor too.

Rachel shook her head. "I don't know why I did it…well, I do…sort of," she rambled, trying to make sense of her myriad of emotions, then she paused to collect herself before confessing, "I thought it would make my feelings for him stronger, but it only made me realize…I don't love him the same way he loves me. I just don't."

Brittany grimaced sadly across the half-circle at Santana. The Latina had shared with Brittany some of Rachel's feelings which she'd confided to Santana two weeks earlier.

"So how do you feel now?" Santana asked delicately.

Rachel's eyes clouded over with tears, and she answered, "Pretty silly at the moment."

"Aww, Rach…don't feel like that…you can always talk to us about anything," Brittany assured her, putting her left arm supportively around the smaller brunette's shoulders.

Santana took Rachel by the hand and squeezed it.

"Thank you," Rachel said, leaning into Brittany and wiping at her wet eyes, "I think I want to break up with Finn…but I just don't want to hurt him."

"Sometimes it's less painful to hear the truth up front than for it to be dragged out," Santana advised.

Rachel nodded knowingly.

There was another knock on Santana's door.

"Hello," Daniel said in a cheery voice.

"Hey," they told him.

Rachel wiped again at her eyes, her back to her father, attempting to hide her emotions from him. Once she felt composed, she turned around and plastered a fake smile across her face. "Hi, Dad."

"Hi, sweetheart," Daniel smiled. He reached into his pocket and removed his wallet, pulling out several crisp twenty-dollar bills and handing them to Santana, "And for my other sweetheart…spending cash for your trip."

"You don't have to give me money," she loved the men who were now her fathers, but she still felt slightly uneasy when it came to their money.

"Trey and I always want our girls to enjoy themselves, so take it and have fun this week," he insisted.

Santana still hesitated.

"If it makes you feel better about taking it then bring us back souvenir t-shirts, deal?"

"Okay," Santana laughed, taking the money from his outstretched hand, "Thanks, Dad."

"My pleasure," he winked at her then patted Rachel on top of the head, "Did you have a good evening, pumpkin?"

"Yes, Daddy," Rachel said with a strained look toward Santana and Brittany.

"Wonderful! Goodnight, girls…see you in the morning," he said as he left the room.

* * *

><p>When the Pierce family van pulled in front of #8 Seashore Way, it was dark and all three backseat passengers had fallen asleep. Mrs. Pierce giggled to herself when she saw them in the glow of the interior light, noting that they looked like a line of dominoes that had fallen over. Brittany was leaning against her pillow on the passenger side door. Santana was leaning against Brittany, and Emily was leaning against Santana with her little arms wrapped sweetly around the Latina's waist.<p>

Mrs. Pierce reached between the front seats to gently rouse them, saying, "Girls…wake up…we're here."

Brittany lifted her head, her neck instantly aching from the weird angle she kept the last hour of the trip. She squinted a few times, trying to adjust her eyes to the light inside the van, seeing her father sliding out of the driver's side and her mother collecting her belongings on the passenger side. The ten-hour drive from Lima, Ohio to Ocean City, New Jersey seemed to take longer and longer each year, Brittany thought. If it weren't for her dad's insistence that they could drive the trip cheaper than the cost of flying the entire family to the east coast or his fear of flying that he tried so hard to mask, Brittany knew her mom would choose the quick and painless path.

"Come on now," Mrs. Pierce stated louder and a bit more persistently, patting Santana on her knee, "Help by grabbing your suitcases."

Santana finally sat up, pushing Emily off her with a small laugh toward Brittany, "My little barnacle."

Brittany leaned into Santana, squeezing her and kissing her on the cheek, asking in a teasing tone, "Does that make you my big barnacle?"

"Maybe," she smiled, unbuckling her lap belt.

Brittany reached down to unbuckle her seatbelt then opened the van door to step out with Santana right behind her.

They all moved around the back of the vehicle to assist with the luggage as Mr. Pierce started pulling each piece out.

"Mommy, I have to go to the bathroom," Emily said, her voice thick with recent sleep.

"Ok, honey…just a minute," Mrs. Pierce answered her with a pat on the head, "Let me help Daddy with these bags."

"But…I gotta go nooow," the little girl crossed her short legs and pleaded.

"Come on, Em…I'll take you," Brittany said, pulling up the handle on her turquoise suitcase to pull it behind her, tucking her pillow under her other arm and taking her little sister by the hand to walk the two of them up to the front porch of the beach cabin.

Before they reached the steps, the front door opened and a tallish blonde woman stepped out of the house with great eagerness, saying loudly, "You guys made it! Brittany! Emily! You've both grown at least three inches since Christmas."

"Hi, Aunt Jill," both girls greeted their mom's older sister with a hug.

"B…," Emily tugged on Brittany's t-shirt.

"Sorry…restroom emergency," Brittany told her aunt.

"No problem, I understand! Mallory's inside…she'll show you where the downstairs bathroom is," the older woman told them, adding over her shoulder, "Tell Andy I said to turn off that video game and come out here and help with the bags." Jill Whitman walked the rest of the pathway to the blue Sienna, greeting her younger sister with a giant hug, "Meggie!"

Meghan Pierce smiled broadly, "You look great!"

"We expected you hours ago."

"There was a wreck on I-76 that had traffic backed up for miles," she responded to her sister with a sideways nod of her head towards her husband.

"Hello, John," Jill smiled, choking back a laugh, "Still insisting on driving, huh?"

"Hello, Jill," Mr. Pierce kissed his sister-in-law on the cheek before leaning back into the van to pull out a black suitcase, "What do you have in here, Santana? Bricks?"

"Just the necessities," Santana answered, taking the bag from him and feeling how heavy it was, "Plus eight pairs of shoes."

"Will you wear eight pairs of shoes in five days?" John asked with raised eyebrows.

"Oh John…give her a break…a girl always needs the perfect shoe for every outfit, right Santana?" Jill insisted with a playful slap to his shoulder.

"Hi, Aunt Jill," the Latina smiled at the familiar woman who was always a bold personality to be around.

"Hi, sweetheart," she hugged the teen as two older boys stepped off the porch heading in their direction. The older woman called to them, "Andrew! Nick! Get over here and help. You guys are slow as snails."

"Sorry, Mom," Andy apologized, circling around the back of the van to pick up two more bags, speaking toward the Pierces, "Hi, Aunt Meg, Uncle John."

"Hi, Andy," his aunt patted the nineteen-year-old on his broad shoulder, "Thanks for helping."

"No problem," he said, starting back toward the house.

"Here, I can take that," a tall, handsome brunette said to Santana as he stood on the sidewalk next to her.

"Oh, Santana…you remember Andy's friend, Nick, right?" Jill asked her.

"Nick?" Santana looked up at his face, not recognizing him at first in the low-lighting.

"Santana?" Nick looked equally-puzzled since three summers had passed since the last time he saw her, "Wow…you look…um…fantastic."

"Thanks," she shifted uncomfortably under his compliment, tucking her long dark hair behind her ears and stepping back to allow him to walk in front of her.

As the rest of them entered the brightly-lit beach house, Brittany was coming around the corner from the bathroom. "Where's Uncle Rob?"

"He'll drive up on Tuesday," her aunt answered, "He has a meeting tomorrow in Philly, and Alex had a baseball tournament this weekend."

"Mom said Melissa is doing a summer semester in Ireland?" Brittany asked.

"Yes! She's loved it so much she said she might move there after college," Jill told her.

"That sounds exciting," Mrs. Pierce added.

"I know! Then we can all take turns visiting her," Jill stated enthusiastically, turning to her youngest child, "Mallory, show Emily the room where you two are staying…there are bunk beds in that smallest room upstairs, Meg, so I thought it would be perfect for the little ones…Brittany, Santana…there's one other room with a double, you girls don't mind sharing do you?"

The brunette looked at the blonde and smiled broadly before they both shook their heads, confirming, "No, we're totally fine with that."

Meg Pierce turned and gave them a look that clearly expressed _do __**not **__do anything up in that room that will embarrass us _ before turning back to her sister with a forced smile, asking, "And where are John and I sleeping?"

"Your bedroom is at the top of the stairs…," Jill said, looking over at her son, "…Andrew help them upstairs with that luggage. Once you get settled, there's stuff for sandwiches in the fridge if anyone's hungry."

"We stopped and had dinner," Meg let her know, checking her watch to see that it was nearly ten o'clock, "I think everybody is tired from the car ride. We'll probably just head to bed so we can get an early start in the morning."

"Sounds good," Jill agreed, adding, "There's plenty of fresh linens up in the bathroom."

"Come on, Emily…I'll show you our room," eleven-year-old Mallory grabbed the littlest Pierce by the hand and led her upstairs.

* * *

><p>Santana and Brittany were pleased with the room they were given at the far end of the hallway which was on the other side of the only upstairs bathroom. It had a double bed that took up most of the space in the room, but there was a white rocker made of wicker in the far corner and a window seat built in below the room's only window.<p>

Brittany immediately went over and raised the window, sitting on the blue and white-striped padded bench and reaching out her hand to Santana, "Come smell the salt water."

Santana stepped over toward the blonde, draping her arm over her shoulders and leaning into her. She took in a deep breath and slowly let it out. The sea air felt somehow cleansing, and Santana responded, "Listen…you can hear the waves."

"I love the water," Brittany told her.

"I know you do," Santana smiled, leaning down to kiss the top of Brittany's head.

A couple of minutes past then they heard a deep voice from behind them say, "These two are yours."

The girls turned to find Nick Chakas in the doorway with a black suitcase in one hand and a turquoise suitcase in his other.

Brittany stood up and walked toward him, "Thanks, Nick."

She rolled hers into the room and sat on the hardwood floor to unzip it while Santana just pointed toward an empty space right inside the doorway.

"You can just set mine there…thanks," she said, still standing by the window. The breeze from outside was blowing the white, shear curtains as well as Santana's dark brown hair.

"It's pretty windy out there tonight," he commented, "You'll want to close that window before you fall asleep."

Santana tried to push it down, but it wouldn't budge.

"It sticks sometimes," he said, stepping into the room, "Let me help you."

Nick moved toward the window, stepping carefully around Brittany on the floor, and pushed hard on the wood to close it.

"Thanks," the Latina said, taking a step back from him and crossing her arms.

"No problem," he smiled, his straight, white teeth showing, "I had this room last summer."

Nick was a tall guy, having grown a lot since the last time Santana saw him the summer of 2008. He was at least six feet, probably even a couple of inches over that. His Greek heritage gave him a prominent nose, but he wore it well with the rest of his chiseled features. He had dark, wavy hair that he wore in sort of a shag cut much like the hairstyle Andy wore, but Andy was several inches shorter and had sandy blonde hair.

Brittany dug out her toothbrush and some toothpaste and stated, standing up, "I'm going to grab the bathroom before someone else does."

Santana shifted uncomfortably, watching Brittany leave the room, hearing the bathroom door shut soon after.

"So…where were you the last couple of summers?" he asked casually, not moving from his spot near her.

Santana took another step away from him, shifting awkwardly from one foot to the other. "Cheer camp last year…," the brunette answered, "…and my family went to Puerto Rico the summer before that."

"Oh right, you're Puerto Rican," he nodded, "Well…from what I remember…."

"Nick…," Santana cut him off, "Listen…a lot has changed with me…like _a lot_."

"Yeah…like you got even hotter," he winked at her, closing some of the gap between them.

"What happened between us is in the distant past so…," she walked over to the bedroom door, hoping he would take the hint to leave, "…let's not make this week awkward, ok?"

Santana watched him stand there a second, and she could see his mental wheels turning. She knew a guy like Nick was probably unaccustomed to being shot down right out of the gate. He cleared his throat and flashed another toothy grin at her as he walked toward the door.

"I get it…," he stopped right in front of her and reached up to brush her long hair off her left shoulder, "…You're going to make me work for it this time."

"Please don't touch me," Santana said softly, casting her eyes downward, her anxiety level rising as she stood between him and the wall.

"That's not what you said last time," he smiled.

"I'm with somebody now…," she looked back up at him, never knowing exactly what or when to say something about her and Brittany, "I assure you…I'm not interested."

Nick opened his mouth to say something as the bathroom door opened loudly and Brittany walked back in through the doorway.

"Excuse me," she said lightheartedly as she squeezed in between them, "Don't let me interrupt."

"I was just leaving," he replied, adding with another smile, "We can catch up more tomorrow. Goodnight, Brittany."

"Night, Nick," the blonde replied with a slight wave, kneeling again at her suitcase.

"Goodnight, Santana," he said as he finally left.

The Latina instantly shut and locked the door, a shiver passing through her entire body as she turned around toward Brittany.

"He's nice…I always liked him," she said, taking off her t-shirt and removing her bra then pulling on a tank top.

Santana swallowed hard and tipped over her bag so she could unzip it. She had never told Brittany that she slept with her cousin's best friend during that summer trip…a few times that trip actually…and she certainly did not want to bring it up now.

"Yeah…real nice," Santana rolled her eyes, her breathing slowing returning to normal.

* * *

><p>Everybody was eager to wake up Monday morning as soon as sunlight started filling the beach cabin. After showers and breakfast, Brittany and Santana took the younger girls down to the beach to play and watch Andy and Nick surf while Mrs. Pierce and her sister went shopping on the Boardwalk. They all left out soon after nine thirty with Mr. Pierce waving to them from behind his work laptop.<p>

Santana kept it tame for their first day at the beach by wearing her slightly-more-conservative black bikini and making sure to shield herself from Nick's constant gaze by wearing a white, lightweight top as they all walked the path to the shore.

The guys went out on their boards straightaway while the girls put on sunblock and spread out beach towels and set up a couple of beach chairs.

Brittany and Santana splashed around for a little bit in the shallow part of the water, watching Emily and Mallory collect sea shells in their colorful buckets.

As the water started filling with more and more people, the Latina decided to make herself comfortable back on shore in a low-sitting beach chair, feeling the sand between her toes and sunning herself, a significant portion of her attractive face blocked by oversized, black sunglasses.

The late-morning sun felt relaxing to Santana as it slowly heated her skin, and while she started to drift off, she could hear squeals of delight and laughter from Emily and Mallory as they built a sandcastle nearby with Brittany.

Santana wasn't sure how much time had passed, it could have been thirty minutes or it could have been over an hour, but she was suddenly roused from her relaxing nap by the feel of cool water droplets on her exposed body.

She opened her eyes once she realized the sun was being blocked too, glancing upward, expecting to see a raincloud. Instead, she saw a very tall guy in a black wet suit standing over her with his arm propped casually against his green and blue surfboard, droplets of sea water dripping down from his very wet hair.

"Can I help you?" she asked dryly, not stirring.

"Enjoying the sun?"

"Until you blocked it," she retorted.

"Oh…sorry," he laughed, kneeling and laying his board down in the sand, "Is that better?"

"Uh, no…," she pushed up on her sunglasses a tad, "…that's worse actually."

Nick just looked at her with a confused expression on his face.

"Did I ask you to join me?" Santana said harshly.

"What's your deal?"

"I told you last night, Nick…you're wasting your time," she adjusted slightly in the beach chair, "I'm with someone…happily."

"Sooo…we can't be friends?"

Santana chuckled. She knew guys like Nick.

"Why is that funny?" he asked, sitting all the way to the ground and crossing his long muscular legs at the ankles.

"Because you're staring at my chest even as you ask that."

This time Nick laughed. "Guilty…," he confessed, running his large hand through his wet hair, "…but admit it."

"Admit what?" she continued to look straight ahead.

"You would not wear _that_ swimsuit if you did not want to be noticed."

"I'm wearing this swimsuit so I can get a tan," Santana stated dismissively.

Nick laughed harder. "Yeah, okay…sure."

"Are we done being friends yet?" Santana asked sarcastically.

"Why do you hate me so much?"

Santana did not answer. Truthfully, she wasn't entirely sure why she felt such dislike for him. She was really into him that one summer before her freshman year. He was older and seemed a lot cooler than Puck whom she'd already slept with a couple of times earlier in the summer. She never told Brittany about Nick, mostly because she hadn't told Brittany about Puck at that point. In fact, Brittany knew Santana lost her virginity to Puck, she just didn't know that it was actually four months earlier than she still thought.

"Well, just for the record…I may be a bad memory…but I'm not a bad guy," Nick said as he stood up, brushing off the sand from his hands as he walked back toward the water.

Brittany walked over and plopped down on a beach towel next to Santana, facing away from her, "Will you put some more lotion on my back, hon?"

Santana took a deep breath and sat up, twisting in her chair for better access. She didn't like having secrets from Brittany, but she wasn't sure this was the best time to make huge confessions. The Latina knew Brittany was not out to her extended family even though the blonde was never one to hide from the truth. Santana was sort of just taking her lead from Brittany's actions and comments, and so far this vacation, Santana felt noticeably friend-zoned.

"Are you enjoying the day?" Brittany asked her as she handed a tube of sunblock over her shoulder.

"Yes, of course…are you?" she answered with strained enthusiasm.

"You need to come see our sandcastle…it's awesome!" Brittany said proudly, pulling her long blond hair up as Santana spread the white cream over her pale, freckled skin that was already turning a slight shade of red.

Santana looked around at the people on the crowded beach as she rubbed sunscreen across Brittany's shoulders and neck and down her upper arms, making sure to get it up under the straps on her swimsuit top. She internally pondered the fact that none of the beachgoers knew she and Brittany were a couple…a couple who was in love and engaged to be married at some point in the future. Yet, Santana knew she could never truly feel the same carefree joy of just casually leaning over and kissing the back of Brittany's neck like she wanted to at the moment.

"Ok, you're all set, love," Santana snapped the lid on the tube and set it on the beach towel, smiling at Brittany when she turned to look at her.

Brittany stood up and reached down to take Santana by the hand, "Come on."

Santana allowed Brittany to pull her to a standing position then she wiped her backside as she walked over to the sandcastle they built.

Brittany stepped down into the shallow moat that was created by the displaced sand, turning around to smile up at Santana, holding her hands out in a grand presentation of their creation, "Tada…impressed?"

Santana laughed at seeing the gratification on their pink faces, "Very!"

"See the window for the princess over here, Santana?" Emily pointed to a cut out on the castle tower.

"I see…you did such a great job!" the brunette told them, smiling over at Brittany who was kneeling in the sand, her nose wrinkling as she squinted in the bright sunlight.

"That way the prince can climb over the castle wall and up the tower to save the princess," Mallory added, demonstrating with two small seashells.

"Oh, is that right?" Santana tried to show interest.

"Nuh-uh, Mallory…it doesn't have to be a prince!" Emily insisted with a pout.

"Who's going to save the princess then if the prince doesn't?" the eleven-year-old asked her younger cousin with confusion.

"Another princess!" Emily said adamantly, picking up two seashells of her own, explaining matter-of-factly, "See…this princess can climb up the tower, way up here…and then she rescues the other princess…and they kiss…cause they love each other very much."

Santana looked over and smiled lovingly at Brittany who winked and smiled back at her proudly.

The older girl just shrugged as if that made sense too, noticing her brother coming out of the water.

"Andy look!" Mallory called to him as he and Nick walked up to where they sat.

"Great job, Mal!" he complimented, "Hey Britt, did you still want to go out on my board?"

"Is the water cold right now?" she asked, not having a wetsuit.

"It's pretty choppy, but it's warmed up," he answered her.

"I think I'll wait," the blonde answered.

"I want to go!" Emily jumped up.

"Oh no you don't," Brittany said sternly.

"But you said, Andy!" she frowned, "You said you'd teach me to surf."

"No, Emily…it's not safe," Brittany told her.

"We don't have a lifejacket for you, Em," Santana tried to help.

"What if I take her out just a little ways on the board and let her paddle back?" Andy suggested with a smile.

"Please, B?" the little girl pleaded with a giant grin, her tongue showing through the gaps in her tiny teeth.

Brittany paused, thinking, before she sighed heavily and relented, "Ok…but please don't go out very deep."

"Yay!" Emily stepped up out of the trench and started running toward the water, yelling back over her shoulder, "Come on, Andy!"

"Don't worry…I'll stay right with her," he said reassuringly, walking off with his white surfboard tucked under his arm.

Brittany looked over at Santana and grimaced, "I should probably stay close by."

Santana nodded and smiled as she watched Brittany head toward the water too then she stepped back over to her beach chair to sit down.

"You don't want to go out in the water?" Nick asked the Latina.

"No, I'm fine here."

He sat down next to her on the beach towel with his long legs pulled up and his arms wrapped around his knees.

"Aren't you hot in that suit?" Santana decided to make the best of his presence.

"Sort of…but it's a bitch to get back on," he stated, "I'm going back out in a little while."

Santana shrugged, watching Brittany walk out in the ocean until she was about thigh deep, the top part of her aqua-colored swimsuit showing. Santana loved that particular suit on Brittany because it made her eyes look even bluer, and the bluer Brittany's eyes looked, the more they sparkled like when the sunlight danced on top of the water.

The Latina could see Andy holding onto the board a few yards beyond where Brittany stood. He moved out a little further until the water was to his shoulders then he stopped to show Emily how to position herself on the board, on her stomach, so she could paddle her way back toward the shore.

"Are you guys getting hungry?" Nick asked, "When they come back, I can go get us lunch from the snack stand over there."

Santana did feel her stomach growl when he said that. "Yeah, maybe…let's see what the rest of them want to do," she deferred, reaching for her bag to dig around for her phone. She pulled it out and lit the screen to see that it was shortly after Noon. Before she could look back up, she heard a scream, not a high-pitched scream, but a deep, male's scream.

"Oh shit," Nick jumped up, "I bet he got stung."

Santana didn't follow Nick to the water but stayed seated and watched as Andy grabbed at his lower leg.

Nick walked out until he was in ankle-deep water, getting close enough to yell toward Brittany, "What happened?"

Brittany waded closer toward Andy then turned to yell back toward shore, "Jellyfish."

Nick nodded, saying to Brittany, "Tell him to come back in…we'll get the medic to treat it."

"Andy!" a child's voice screamed out loudly in a panic.

Brittany whipped back around to see that, in his moment of pain, Andy had inadvertently lost his grip on the edge of the surfboard and the tide was carry Emily further out.

"Hold on, Em!" Brittany called calmly to her little sister, not wanting to startle the child, then she started swimming out to her.

Brittany swam quickly past her cousin, trying to close the distance between her and Emily, noticing that the board was bobbing up and down in the deeper, choppy water.

"Paddle back this way!" Andy hollered, grimacing in intense pain, "Like I showed you, Em!"

Santana stood up and walked to where Nick was standing, "Is he okay?"

"He'll be fine…I've been stung twice in one day before and survived," he joked, looking down at her, enjoying the side view of the Latina in her bikini as she stood next to him.

"It hurts bad though, I've heard," Santana said as she watched Brittany catch up to the drifting board then start to pull Emily back toward the shore. The Latina privately breathed a sigh of relief once the two of them made it back to Andy.

"It's definitely not pleasant…it feels like a thousand needles stinging into your skin," Nick described graphically, seeing Andy pull Emily safely off the board in order to transport the child on his back the rest of the way.

"Nick…that wave looks really big," Santana observed, sounding worried.

"Andy! Behind you!" Nick yelled out to warn them of the rising danger.

Nick took off quickly toward them just as the giant wave crashed into the trio, picking up the board and all three of them in its path.

"Brittany!" Santana screamed out as all three of them disappeared under the water.

To Santana, it seemed like a lifetime that they were missing from view, but in reality, it could not have been more than a couple of seconds before the board popped back up out of the water, moving with the current toward shore. A second after that, she saw Andy surface with a drenched Emily still tightly attached to his neck.

Santana let out the air she didn't realize was caught in her chest, relieved, expecting to see Brittany surface in the next second, but the only things she saw were the surfboard wash ashore and Nick as he took Emily from Andy's grasp.

Once the Latina realized what was happening, she ran out into the water, screaming, "Brittany!"

Nick helped Andy and Emily back to shore, but Santana swam out past them in a panic.

"Santana!" Nick tried to stop her.

When Brittany finally surfaced, she was face down.

"Britt!" Santana said frantically as she grabbed the blonde and flipped her over, seeing a trail of fresh blood down her forehead. Then Santana realized Brittany wasn't breathing. On adrenaline alone, she wrapped her right arm around Brittany's abdomen and started pulling her toward shore.

As she got to where she could stand up, she felt a strong arm pull Brittany from her grasp.

"Let me help," Nick told her.

"No!" Santana shouted, not wanting to lose her physical link to Brittany, but Nick was taller and stronger and lifted Brittany over Santana's head.

The tall brunette carried her and laid her on the wet sand just as one of the beach's trained lifeguards met up with them.

Santana came ashore feeling dazed from the whirlwind of activity and emotion. Her eyes adjusted then fixated on the bright red shorts of the lifeguard as he kneeled at Brittany's side, performing CPR.

Andy came limping up behind her, lowering Emily to the ground, and Santana heard the child scream out, "B!"

"Emily," Santana reached out and pulled her back by the arm.

"Santana…can't you help her?" the seven-year-old pleaded.

Santana didn't know how to respond, her eyes filling with hot tears. They stood there watching, holding their breath, waiting for Brittany to take a breath of her own.

"You can't let her die, Santana," Emily looked up at her with tears streaming down her little face, "You're supposed to save her!"

Time and Santana's heart both nearly stopped, and she looked over at the sandcastle, hearing Emily's earlier words echo through the sea air… _then she rescues the other princess…and they kiss…cause they love each other very much_.

Santana took in an arduous breath of salt air, tears escaping from her dark eyes, and she looked up into the blue sky as the yellow sun disappeared behind a large cloud.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>: I'm nervous! How about y'all? I sure hope Brittany breathes!

This chapter got longer than I thought it would so I am breaking it into two parts. There will be a Chapter 28 and an Epilogue. Then…Her Smile Heals Me will be complete. Thank you all so much for reading my story. Please let me know your thoughts after reading this update. Stay tuned for the finale! Kim


	28. Chapter 28

**Her Smile Heals Me (part 28)**

**The Final Chapter**

"Change occurs when the pain of staying the same is greater than the pain of changing." (unknown)

**Tuesday, July 26, 2011**

**4:42 PM**

Santana Lopez walked slowly down the dirt path from the cabin toward the beach. She wore jean cutoffs and an oversized gray Temple University sweatshirt which she borrowed from Andy earlier in the day when the rain started and the wind picked up. Santana found something peaceful about the beach after a hard rain, and the calm lured her toward it on this afternoon.

The teen paused near the water a moment, lost in thought, contemplating how mindboggling it was that someone's entire existence could be transformed in a brief second. A choice to do something one way and not another or to say something aloud or just remain silent could truly change a life's course forever.

Santana pulled down her ball cap further on her head as a strong breeze passed over her. She bent down to pick up a stick that had been washed ashore by the higher tide, taking a step back when she felt the cool water move over her flip-flop. With a heavy sigh, she moved further up the beach toward a nearby pier.

The beach was virtually deserted except for an elderly man Santana saw sitting on the edge of the wooden pier, casting out his fishing line. He smiled and nodded to her as she walked passed him, his old eyes milky and full of a lifetime of experiences. As she walked to the end of the dock, she looked back over her shoulder at him, thinking to herself…_Who does he see when he looks at me_? _Does he see a girl who was raped? Does he see a girl who has been shunned by her father? Does he see a lesbian? Would he even care if he knew those things?_

The brunette stepped out of her shoes then sat down on the wooden pier, her legs dangling over the edge, her feet crossed at the ankles. She sat quietly and looked out into the ocean, contemplating the vastness of it, suddenly feeling so incredibly small by comparison. She looked up into the sky and wondered if anything was looking back.

The thoughts in her head were broken apart by the piercing memory of an ambulance siren. It was the same sound that kept invading her head every time she sought out a recent moment of calm, always bringing the same flashes of memory with it.

_ "Miss, you'll have to move to the waiting area."_

_ "But…Brittany…."_

_ "Please step back."_

Santana shook her head, trying to physically empty her mind, but yesterday's events continued to play on an internal loop as she mentally reexamined what she did say versus what she should have said.

"_Excuse me, ma'am…."_

"_Yes?"_

"_I know it's only been a few minutes…but could you please see if there's any update on Brittany Pierce?"_

"_Are you related?"_

"_Um…I'm her…friend."_

"_Let me check, okay? But I can only release information directly to her family when they arrive."_

Santana took a deep breath, looking across the water, and tears filled her eyes.

_**Sitting here, on this lonely dock**_

_**Watch the rain play on the ocean top**_

_**All the things I feel I need to say**_

_**I can't explain in any other way…**_

_**I need to be bold**_

_**Need to jump in the cold water**_

_**Need to grow older with a girl like you**_

_**Finally see you are naturally**_

_**The one to make it so easy**_

_**When you show me the truth**_

_**Yeah, I'd rather be with you**_

_**Say you want the same thing too…**_

_**Now here's the sun, come to dry the rain**_

_**Warm my shoulders and relieve my pain**_

_**You're the one thing that I'm missing here**_

_**With you beside me I no longer fear…**_

_**Need to be bold**_

_**Need to jump in the cold water**_

_**Need to grow older with a girl like you**_

_**Finally see you are naturally**_

_**The one to make it so easy**_

_**When you show me the truth**_

_**Yeah, I'd rather be with you**_

_**Say you want the same thing too…**_

Santana was so lost in thought that she did not hear anybody walk up on the dock behind her.

"Do you mind company?"

She looked over her shoulder and shook her head then patted the wood next to her, moving over slightly as they sat down.

"What are you doing out here on the pier?"

"Thinking," Santana revealed with a melancholy tone.

"Thinking about…?"

"Just life."

"Those are deep thoughts."

"Yeah," Santana nodded and chuckled, "How's your head?"

"The stitches are hurting," Brittany wrinkled her nose when she answered her, laying her head over on Santana's left shoulder when she felt the Latina wrap her arm around her waist.

"You should be resting."

"I've slept the whole day…I needed to stretch my legs."

"Yeah, me too," Santana nuzzled Brittany's blonde hair with her nose, breathing in her scent that was mixed with the fresh salt air.

The two sat in silence while Santana's mind wandered again.

_ "Mr. and Mrs. Pierce…."_

_ "Yes…is she okay?"_

"_The x-ray showed no fracture…the wound is relatively superficial…so once we get that stitched up, she can go home this evening."_

_ "Oh, that's such a relief."_

_ "Can we see her?"_

"_Sure, but just for a few minutes…she's resting while we continue to monitor her breathing."_

_ "Thank you, Doctor."_

_ "This is one of her ER nurses…she'll take you to her."_

_ "Oh Miss, immediate family only right now."_

_ "But…."_

"_Santana…we'll make sure you see her as soon as possible, okay…hang in there, sweetheart."_

"_Meg…please tell her I love her_."

Santana pulled Brittany further into her embrace and kissed her forehead near her bandage. She closed her eyes to soak in the physical reconnection to the love she so feared she'd lost yesterday on the beach in one of those fleeting moments when everything seemed to break apart.

"Britt?"

"Huh?"

"Why do we have to wait 'til we're out here on the pier for me to hold you?"

Brittany was silent in response, finally saying, "I'm sorry…I never meant for it to be that way."

"Do you think we'll ever get to the point where we aren't hiding?"

"I love you, Santana."

"I know," the Latina confirmed, squeezing Brittany's hand that sat on her bare knee, "I'm just ready for everybody else to know it too."

_**I could have saved so much time for us**_

_**Had I seen the way to get to where I am today**_

_**You waited on me for so long**_

_**So now, listen to me say…**_

_**I need to be bold **_

_**Need to jump in the cold water**_

_**Need to grow older with a girl like you**_

_**Finally see you are naturally**_

_**The one to make it so easy**_

_**When you show me the truth**_

_**Yeah, I'd rather be with you**_

_**Say you want the same thing too**_

_**Say you feel the way I do.**_

* * *

><p>Santana turned over in the bed Tuesday night, glancing at a digital clock on the white, wicker nightstand next to the bed, seeing that it was 1:03 am. She'd been unable to fall asleep for more than ten minutes at a time over the past hour. Her latest sleep position felt no more comfortable than the last three she tried so she turned over the other way again, moving closer to Brittany who seemed sound asleep.<p>

Santana lay behind the blonde, watching the back of her head in the moonlight. _She's so peaceful tonight_…Santana thought with a smile then her smile turned to a concerned grimace…_maybe too peaceful_. The Latina pushed herself up on her elbow so she could lean over Brittany, sticking her hand under Brittany's nose to assure that she was still breathing. Santana let out a heavy breath of relief when she felt hot air on the back of her hand.

She kissed Brittany's shoulder and turned over on her back, sighing as warm moisture filled the corners of her eyes. Shaken, Santana eased out of her side of the bed and stepped into her shorts with her ribbed tank, quietly pushing open their bedroom door and tiptoeing down the staircase.

With enough light shining in through the glass windows, Santana made her way to the kitchen that was right off the living room where the guys were crashed on the couches. She turned on the soft-glowing light over the sink then poured herself some milk in a coffee mug, warming it in the microwave for several seconds, careful to stop it before the loud timer went off.

She stood at the sink to take a sip, looking out the window at the moon shining off the nearby water. Just as she set the porcelain mug back on the counter, she felt somebody lean into her from behind and kiss her neck.

"Aahh," she startled, turning all the way around.

"Sorry to scare you," Nick told her with a smile, leaning back down to kiss her.

"What are you doing?" she turned her head quickly, pushing against his broad chest.

"Just saying hi," he said, his deep voice barely above a whisper, brushing her long, dark hair off her shoulder.

Santana felt her anxiety heighten immediately, as he backed her tightly against the counter top. "I've asked you not to touch me," she said with subtle desperation as she cast her eyes downward, uncomfortable with his close proximity.

"Oh right…you're with someone…," he leaned over her further, caressing her bare arm with his fingertips and whispering in her ear, "…but he's not here right now…is he?"

Santana swallowed hard. His body pressed against hers made her sick to her stomach, her mind flashing back to Karofsky and being trapped under the dark bleachers. She could feel Nick's hot breath near her ear, and it sent a shiver down her spine, making her tremble.

She took a deep breath in an effort to steady her mind and said slowly, "That he is a she…and she is right upstairs…now get the fuck away from me."

Nick straightened slightly but did not budge. Santana could see confusion in his eyes as he processed what she just said so she used the opportunity to slide out from under his larger frame. He adjusted quickly though, putting his hand on the counter, blocking her again.

"Wait…," he stopped her, "…you're talking about Brittany?"

Santana felt her pulse quicken more, but she confirmed, "Yes."

"So you…and…Brittany?" he clarified.

She looked up at him, her breathing still shallow. "You need to back off now."

"That's pretty hot actually…," he smirked, running his hand down her jawline, "…maybe we could, you know…work something out…with all three of us?"

Before Santana even realized what she was doing, she reached up and slapped him across the right side of his face, "That's my future wife you're talking about, you asshole!"

"Oww," his hand went up to his stinging face, "You didn't have to slap me."

"Then learn to take no for an answer!" she said, finally freeing herself.

"Wait!" he said, turning around and grabbing at her wrist before she could leave the kitchen.

"Let go of me now, Nick…or I swear I'll scream and wake up this entire house."

He released her wrist, saying, "Geez, chill out, will ya…I had no way of knowing you two were dykes now."

"You need to shut your fucking mouth," a masculine voice said from behind Santana.

She turned around to find Andy stepping out of the dark.

"Are you talking to me?" Nick asked, a look of surprised confusion on his face.

"I'm looking at you, aren't I?" Andy said moving closer to his best friend, "You need to apologize to her."

"Andy, it's okay…just let it go," Santana said softly, crossing her arms protectively over her chest.

"No, it's not okay," he responded, never taking his eyes off Nick, "What you said to her was derogatory."

"What? Dyke?" he laughed, "Ok, what am I supposed to call her?"

"Try Santana…because that's who she is…and Santana just happens to be gay…just like I am," Andy retorted.

Santana appreciated the sentiment, but she knew her eyes had to be as wide as Nick's were as he stood across from her.

"Wh – What? You're gay?" Nick stammered with a response, "Dude, I've known you since 5th grade. You're like one of the most…athletic guys I know."

"Interesting fact for you, Nick…sexuality has nothing to do with athletic ability," Andy said sarcastically.

"This is crazy shit, man," Nick shook his head and tried to walk around him, but Andy stepped in his path.

"You owe Santana an apology."

Nick stood there in silence for a second before turning his head toward Santana, "I'm sorry if I offended you."

"You did a lot more than offend me," she told him.

"I apologize," he said again, but the Latina did not respond.

"You should probably leave in the morning," Andy told him.

"You're choosing _her _over your best friend?"

"She's family…you're just some jerk I know," Andy stated.

Nick looked at them both then walked out of the kitchen, saying over his shoulder, "Fine…I'll sleep in the car tonight."

The two of them stood there silently as they heard the front door of the cabin open and shut.

"I'm really sorry about him," Andy spoke first.

"I'm getting used to that sort of reaction," Santana gave him a half-smile and shook her head, "But, thank _you_, Andy…that meant so much to me…that you consider me family."

"Well, you are marrying my cousin, right?" he winked at her.

"You heard that part?" she bit nervously at her bottom lip.

"I already knew."

Santana's eyes narrowed in confusion, "You did?"

"Brittany called me the day after you proposed…she was so proud and told me all about it."

The Latina was even more confused now, "I thought she was afraid to tell any of you?"

Andy grimaced and shook his head, "No…it's me who's too afraid…I begged her not to say anything during this trip, because I was worried it would start questions about me."

"How long have you known…that you're gay?" Santana asked him, the topic of sexuality still felt uneasy to her even when shared.

"A long time…it's just taken me awhile to adjust to it…I called and told Brittany last September, because I met this great-looking guy at college," Andy reflected, "Freshman Biology…third row. Green eyes, adorable smile…it took me five weeks to work up the nerve to ask him out…Brittany finally convinced me that the worst he could say was 'no'."

"And…?"

"He said no…," Andy laughed, "…but I didn't die from it…and three weeks later Chad…back row, Poli Sci…asked _me_ out. We've been dating since then. I'm slowly coming out to more people. It feels good."

Santana smiled widely, "That's great, Andy. I'm really happy for you."

"I'm happy for the two of you…congratulations," he reached up and squeezed her forearm.

She had forgotten she had her arms crossed, and feeling more at ease, she relaxed them. "Thank you."

"I really hoped it would work out for you guys."

"When did Brittany first say something to you?" Santana wondered aloud.

"She pulled me aside last summer," he recounted, "She told me she had fallen in love with someone…and that someone was…you." He playfully poked Santana's shoulder for emphasis.

Santana took a deep breath, feeling her eyes watering, "We've been through a lot to get where we are now…most of it because of me."

"The end result is worth all the rest though, huh?"

Santana nodded and smiled, "She is the best part of my life."

Andy hugged her and told her goodnight before Santana left the kitchen and went back up the stairs, slowly pushing open their bedroom door and shutting it behind her.

She removed her shorts and climbed back into bed, spooning up behind Brittany, wrapping her left arm tightly around the blonde's abdomen. Brittany lightly stirred, draping her arm over Santana's and molding her backside further into the Latina's body.

"I love you so much, Brittany Pierce," Santana whispered into Brittany's shoulder then fell fast asleep. 

* * *

><p>Brittany pushed on the partially-opened door Wednesday morning to find Santana reading a book in the window nook of their bedroom, her knees pulled tightly to her chest as she leaned back against the wall.<p>

"This rain is depressing," Brittany said with a pout, sitting across from her on the window seat, "It's ruining my entire beach experience."

Santana looked up from her book, "Uh, babe…I think you getting whacked in the head and almost drowning ruined it more. You can't go in the water even if it wasn't raining."

"I know, but I could still enjoy the sun if it would just come back out," Brittany grimaced, reaching down to rub Santana's bare feet, "We found Monopoly in the downstairs closet…want to come play with us?"

"No, you guys have fun together…I'm fine here," Santana responded, looking back down at the words in the pages of The Help.

"My mom said that's an awesome book," Brittany commented, absentmindedly twisting her engagement ring with the fingers of her right hand.

"She loaned it to me yesterday," Santana told her flatly, noticing Brittany had put the ring on for the first time since the night they arrived at the cabin, "She said it would give me something to do instead of just watching you sleep."

Brittany smiled, remembering Santana in the white rocker every time she opened her eyes throughout the day on Tuesday. "Okay, hon…but if you change your mind then I'd love for you to spend time with me downstairs."

Santana watched Brittany stand to leave, "Britt..."

The blonde turned back around.

"I love you."

Brittany walked back to the window and bent over to kiss Santana on her lips. "I love you too."

As she turned to go, Santana grabbed her wrist, "Brittany…I need to tell you something."

Brittany sat back down on the bench, tucking one foot up under her. "Okay."

"Nick didn't leave because of a family emergency," Santana started, "He left because of me."

"What do you mean?"

"He cornered me in the kitchen last night, when everyone was asleep," she detailed for Brittany, "He tried to pressure me into having sex with him."

Brittany grimaced, "Why would he do that?"

"I never told you…but I slept with him summer before freshman year," Santana looked away, finding it hard to look directly at Brittany.

"Why did you feel like you couldn't tell me?"

Santana shrugged nervously, "Because…I hadn't told you yet that I'd already slept with Puck."

Brittany smiled sweetly, "I knew the first time you slept with Puck…I just waited for you to tell me when you were ready."

"Did you know about Nick too?" the Latina asked, her eyes scanning Brittany's face for a reaction.

"Of course I did," the blonde answered with a slight giggle, "You're not _that_ subtle, Santana. Don't you think I noticed that every time you went missing so did he?"

Santana took a deep breath, "I can never hide anything from you, can I?"

"Nope," Brittany winked, "There's no reason to even try. I know you better than I know anything else in this world."

Santana leaned forward and put her arms around Brittany, pressing her forehead against Brittany's forehead, "I'm so blessed to have you."

The blonde returned the embrace, kissing down the side of Santana's face, telling her, "I'm proud of you for standing up for yourself last night."

"Andy told you what happened?" the brunette surmised.

"He felt bad that you were put in that situation."

"Does he know that I was raped?"

"No, hon…that's yours to tell," Brittany assured her.

"I was scared, Britt…but I fought back…it felt great," she said proudly.

"You have come so far," Brittany squeezed Santana's hands in hers, pulling one of them to her mouth for a kiss.

"I really have, haven't I?" the Latina smiled, "Thank you for never giving up on me."

"And I never will," she said confidently.

"You know what?" Santana stood and pulled Brittany up beside her, "It may be miserable outside, but I'm suddenly feeling festive…come on."

Santana led the two of them down the stairs to the living room where Mallory and Alex were setting up the Monopoly board at the dining room table.

Emily jumped up from the floor and ran to hug her, "Santana!"

"Hey, squirt," she said, picking up the little girl.

"Britt, what game piece do you want?" Mallory asked, setting the tiny silver figures on the 'Go' square.

"She always has to have the top hat," Andy called out from the nearby couch.

"Come play, Andy," Alex said to his older brother, "I'll let you have the racecar."

Andy laughed and walked over, "Ok, deal! Prepare to go bankrupt, little bro."

"Tan, which one do you want?" Brittany asked, pulling out a chair to sit down.

"Um…I'll take the…," the Latina surveyed the remaining choices, lowering Emily to the ground, "…battleship."

"Oooo, Alexander Whitman…she took your second choice, bud," Andy teased, elbowing the young blond in the chair next to him.

Santana laughed, reaching across the table and lightly slapping at the bill of the younger boy's Philadelphia Eagles cap, "That's right…and I am prepared to launch a full attack as I sail around this entire board…collecting properties in my wake."

Alex frowned when he leaned over the box for the last couple of choices.

"It's ok, Alex…look, you can be the shoe…or the cool wheel barrow," Brittany smiled, holding up the reject pieces.

"The shoe, I guess," the fourteen-year-old plopped down in a table chair.

"Can we play music?" Mallory asked the older teens.

"Sure…," Andy walked over to the built-in shelves and turned on the radio to a local station they always listened to when their parents went out shopping then he returned to the table, taking a seat between Brittany and his sister and grabbing the dice, "Ok, Boardwalk and Park Place…you are practically mine!"

The game kept the group of them occupied for the next hour until Emily tugged on Brittany's sleeve and told her, "I'm hungry, B."

"Me too!" Alex and Mallory both agreed.

"Wanna order pizza?" Andy asked.

"Yes!" the group shouted.

Santana got up to stretch her back and go to the bathroom, answering Andy's question of what toppings they wanted over her shoulder, "Anything but mushrooms or onions."

"Pepperoni or Sausage, Santana?" Brittany called to her as she went around the corner.

"Pepperoni," she hollered in response.

Once she returned back to the living room, she saw that the game was pretty much over or at least on permanent pause with everyone raiding the refrigerator for soda and sandwich stuff.

"What happen to the pizza?" she asked.

"With the rain, the pizza shop said everyone is calling in for delivery," Andy explained.

"The wait was two hours," Alex added with a groan.

"So looks like we're having sandwiches," Brittany told her with a hug from behind, folding her long arms around the brunette's stomach.

The display of affection took Santana by surprise, and she tilted her head and looked back at Brittany with raised eye-brows.

Brittany simply winked at her and kissed her on the cheek as if pretense no longer mattered in front of her cousins.

Santana smiled back…inside too…and said, "I feel like dancing…who wants to dance with me?"

Emily jumped up and down, "I do, I do!"

Brittany and Santana laughed as the seven-year-old squeezed in between them.

"Well, there you go, hon…best dance partner you'll ever have," Brittany told the Latina then walked over and turned up the radio.

"Ok, squirt…," Santana said, picking up the child, feeling Emily hook her ankles around her back, "It's you and me."

Santana twirled the little blonde around the living room as the lively music played, and when the brunette recognized the song as _Beauty in the World_ by Macy Gray, she told her, "Ohhh, I love this song…sing with me, Em."

_I know you're fed up  
>Life don't let up <em>

_For us…_

_All they talk about  
>Is what is going down<br>What's been messed up _

_For us…_

_When I look around, _

_I see blue skies  
>I see butterflies <em>

_For us…  
><em>  
><em>Listen to the sound <em>

_and lose it  
>in sweet music <em>

_and dance with me…_

_'Cause there is beauty in the world  
>So much beauty in the world<br>Always beauty in the world  
>So much beauty in the world…<em>

_So shake your booty boys and girls_

_For the beauty in the world  
>Pick your diamond, pick your pearl <em>

_There is beauty in the world  
>All together now…<br>_

"Can I cut in?" Andy tapped Santana on the shoulder.

"Absolutely," Santana laughed, handing Emily over to the taller teen, "She's heavier than she looks."

"That's ok…she's about to learn that I have two left feet," he joked.

Brittany looked around the room at her younger cousins bouncing around and singing and at her baby sister laughing and enjoying herself in Andy's arms, and even though there was still a dull throb where her blonde hair met up with her forehead, she felt truly happy.

Santana looked across the room and saw the carefree smile on Brittany's face. Still singing the upbeat song, Santana danced her way toward her…

_We need more lovin''  
>We need more money, they say<br>Change is gonna come  
>Like the weather<br>They say forever, they say…_

_So baby, in between  
>Notice the blue skies<br>Notice the butterflies  
>Notice me<em>

_Stop and smell the flowers  
>And lose it the sweet music <em>

_And dance with me…_

"Feel like dancing?" Santana asked with a giant smile, mindful of Brittany's still-bandaged head.

"Would swaying work?" Brittany suggested, holding her hand out to the brunette.

"With you? Anything works," Santana took her by the hand and pulled her close, swaying and singing…

_There is beauty in the world  
>So much beauty in the world<br>Always beauty in the world  
>There is beauty in the world…<em>

_So shake your booty boys and girls_

_For the beauty in the world  
>Pick your diamond, pick your pearl <em>

'_Cause there is beauty in the world  
>All together now<em>…

_Heya throw your hands up and holla  
>Heya throw your hands up and holla<br>When you don't know what to do  
>Don't know if you'll make it through<br>Remember that he's givin' you _

_Beauty in the world…_

_So love…  
><em>

_Yeah love  
>Yeah love<br>Oh love  
>All together now…<br>_

Santana was having a great time being part of Brittany's family, and she gave Brittany an easy twirl under her raised arm then pulled her again to her chest, squeezing the blonde with her other hand wrapped securely around the small of Brittany's back.

_Hey baby, when I'm looking at you now  
>I know it's fact, it's true now<br>There's love, there's hope for us  
>And there's beauty in the world…<em>

_Hey baby, when I'm looking at you now  
>I know it's fact, it's true now<br>There's love, there's hope for us  
>And there's beauty in the world.<em>

Brittany laughed as the song ended, and she leaned further into Santana, kissing her firmly on the lips.

"I love dancing in your arms," Santana told her, a look of complete peace on her beautiful face.

"Soooo…meet me in the middle of the dance floor in about…five years?" Brittany asked with a sexy smirk.

"For our first dance as wife and wife?" Santana played along, squeezing Brittany tighter into her body.

"Look for me…I'll be the one in a white dress," Brittany winked at her.

Santana smiled broadly and laughed, confirming, "It's a date!" 

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note<strong>: The song in the first scene is Joshua Radin's _I'd Rather Be With You_.

I am truly a mix of emotions. I'm elated that we made it this far together, but I am saddened to post this last chapter. My fingers are crossed that _Her Smile Heals Me_ ended as hopeful as we all wanted it to, and I hope that all the darkness and angst along the way was worth the ride for each of you.

I decided to go ahead and post Ch 28 now before I've written the Epilogue. So do not fret if there was a character or an issue you were disappointed you didn't see in this update. Here's your chance to leave me a note and tell me if you feel something important needs to be addressed in the Epilogue. I'm open to all comments, because I don't want to leave any loose ends as we jump into the sequel next week. That's right! A sequel – next week! I hope you all come along for another journey with me. I sincerely appreciate each one of you. I can't wait to hear what you think of this last chapter, so please leave me your thoughts! Kim


	29. Epilogue

**Her Smile Heals Me**

**Epilogue**

**Saturday, May 26, 2012**

**10:13 am**

The underside of the football bleachers had an eerie calm to it when Santana Lopez stood in its shade Saturday morning. She could hear the footsteps of the people walking up the metal staircase of the bleachers above her, proud parents and grandparents and siblings all taking their places in the stands to watch the seniors of William McKinley High graduate. It was a particularly beautiful morning with blue skies and the bright sunshine peeking out behind fluffy white clouds, but the bottom of the bleachers eclipsed any of the day's brightness for Santana.

Ever since the night of her junior prom, in April of last year, each time Santana arrived at the stadium for Cheerios practice or football games or other sporting events, the Latina consciously avoided this part of the bleachers, always entering from the visitors' gate or intentionally walking the length of the track to get over to the school building.

On this day though, Santana walked purposefully toward the metal seats and forced herself to stand under them. She looked across the empty space, seeing the wooden snack booth that sat in the middle of the paved path. She took in a deep breath of air and noticed that she somehow had remained calm so far.

The brunette beauty looked down at the white envelope in her hand. The letter arrived in the mail the day before, addressed directly to her. At first, she refused to read it when she saw the return address was from a nearby Ohio state prison.

Perhaps her curiosity had gotten the better of her, because something internal caused her to grab the letter from her nightstand before she left this morning for the high school.

She hesitated but eventually relented, running the tip of her finger under the envelope's seal, slowly tearing it open. She looked in it and found a folded sheet of paper which had been ripped neatly from a blue-lined, yellow legal pad.

Santana unfolded it, taking another settling breath before reading the short message that was hand-printed on the page. It said simply:

_Thank you, Santana. _

_You were right. The truth is much easier than all the lies. _

_Please know I am truly sorry for what I did to you. _

_David Karofsky_

Santana looked back over at the snack booth then at the dusty pavement. Her world had changed forever in that very spot, and though the events of prom night would stay with her forever, she knew in the deepest part of her soul that the changes that were initiated that night had ultimately changed her life for the better.

She folded the sheet of paper and pushed it back inside the envelope, reflecting on everything that happened over the past twelve months, and she felt no more bitterness.

"A lot of memories under here, huh?" a familiar voice asked from behind her.

Santana turned around quickly, startled from being yanked back to the present, but she smiled when she saw Brittany standing there. "Quite a lot actually," she emphasized.

"Some good…?" Brittany ventured.

Santana nodded, turning back toward the shadow of the stands, then she added justly, "Some not so good."

Brittany closed the distance between them then took Santana by the hand and drew her further under the stands, maneuvering between two metal support beams, gravel crunching under their feet as they moved.

She stopped in a somewhat hidden spot near a pole. "Do you know what I remember?" the tall blonde asked.

Santana smiled coyly, anticipating the memories to which Brittany was inferring.

Brittany wrapped her arms around Santana's trim waist, inching her closer toward her, reminiscing with raised eyebrows, "I remember making out with you many times back here…before anyone else arrived for practice…and after some of the games."

The Latina laughed, tilting her head back, her long dark hair cascading over her shoulders. "I remember it being a lot more than making out on some occasions."

Brittany shared Santana's laughter, a slight blush spreading across the fair skin of her cheeks, "True."

"Seeing you in your uniform was one of the main reasons I'm glad we rejoined the Cheerios for senior year," Santana told Brittany with a purr which highlighted the raspy edge of her voice.

"Ohhh, really?" Brittany found that sexy, adding with a playful smirk, "Well, seeing you _out_ of your uniform was my main reason."

Santana pushed up on her toes slightly to kiss the taller girl, tightening their embrace, and whispered, "We won't put this stop on the tour when we bring our kids back home for a visit."

"Why not?" Brittany giggled at the thought, "They'll want to know that their moms were trailblazers."

"Trailblazers?" Santana laughed even harder, "Britt…we were horny teens at best."

"Well, we don't have to tell them _everything_ that went on back here, but maybe…they'll want to see where I gave you this," Brittany said, moving the fabric of her red graduation gown to reach into the side pocket of her skirt, pulling out a small black box.

"What is it?" Santana asked with surprised confusion.

"Open it and find out," Brittany suggested, setting the box in Santana's palm, leaning back casually against the metal support beam.

Santana wasn't sure why her fingers were shaking somewhat as she turned the little box around and popped open the hinged top, but she looked up at Brittany's face when she saw what was inside. "Britt…."

The blonde smiled widely, "I'm sorry you had to wait so long, honey…but I saved my dance instructor money all year to buy it for you."

Santana swallowed hard as she felt her eyes cloud over with tears. "It's beautiful," she told Brittany.

"Of course it is…_you_ designed it. Mr. Martin at the jewelry shop still had your original sketch," she explained, adding with a sweet smile, "He even gave it to me for my memory book when I pick this up last night."

"I don't know what to say, Britt," Santana was speechless, holding the open box that held a polished silver ring in it with the same intertwined hearts etched around it as the one she gave Brittany on July 4th.

"Put it on," Brittany took the ring from the box and slipped it on the ring finger of Santana's left hand.

The ring fit perfectly and, as Santana held up her hand, a beam of sunlight shown through the bleachers and reflected off of it, highlighting the intricate etching.

Brittany held her left hand up to the full length of Santana's raised hand, saying proudly, "Now we match forever."

The brunette interlocked their fingers, and pulled Brittany closer into a passionate kiss, agreeing, "Forever, my love."

Brittany leaned down to kiss Santana again, even more intensely than before.

"Ok, you two…enough. Ms. Pillsbury is telling everybody to line up right now," Will Shuester said to them from the edge of the bleachers.

The girls giggled as they wiped the moisture from their lips with the backs of their hands then walked toward their Glee Club instructor.

"Yes, Mr. Shue," Brittany smirked, choking back some of her laughter.

"Santana," Will said as the Latina passed him, causing her to turn around.

"Yes?"

"It's been such a pleasure to teach you girls…but it has been inspirational to watch your personal growth over the past year," he told her, a tear forming in his eye, "I hope you know how much respect I have for both of you."

Santana reached up to hug him, "Thank you, Mr. Shue. That means so much to me."

Brittany leaned over and hugged him too. "Me too, Mr. Shue. Glee Club was definitely the best part of high school."

"I expect a wedding invitation, ok?" he smiled broadly.

"Absolutely," Santana grinned proudly.

* * *

><p>"Hey," Rachel Berry said cautiously as she walked up behind Finn Hudson as the tall teen stood talking to Puck in the line that was forming near the rear of the field house.<p>

"Hey back," Finn said with a reserved smile as he turned and looked down at his petite former girlfriend.

"Hi, Puck," Rachel said.

"Rachel," Puck acknowledged her with a hug, "Good luck today."

"Thanks. You both look handsome in your cap and gown," she told them.

"I can't get this cap to sit right though," Finn fidgeted with his red graduation cap.

"That's because you have a weird-shaped head, dude," Puck confirmed.

"Here…let me help you," Rachel volunteered.

Finn crouched down a bit so she could reach to straighten his cap until it sat perfectly on his head. "There you go…perfect," Rachel told him.

"Thank you," he responded, turning back toward Puck.

"Finn…," Rachel started.

The tall teen turned back around.

"I don't want to leave McKinley today with any tension between us," she confessed.

He sighed and smiled. The two of them had a rocky start to their senior year after Rachel broke things off with him at the end of last summer. Finn was grateful though that they had been able to smooth things out enough to at least co-captain the Glee Club to a Show Choir Nationals championship earlier in the month.

"McKinley will be an afterthought for you once you cross the New York state line next month," Finn told her, feeling bittersweet that Rachel was accepted into NYADA for college and he was headed to nearby University of Findlay.

Rachel paused and grimaced slightly. "McKinley might be forgotten after a while, Finn…but you'll _never _be."

Finn looked at her then bent over to hug her, saying softly, "I hope not."

"I care for you deeply, Finn…that will never change."

"I wish you only the best, Rachel," Finn assured her.

"There's our darling graduate," Daniel hollered as he spotted Rachel in her bright red graduation gown.

The tiny diva looked up to see both of her fathers walking toward her with Burt and Carol Hummel in tow.

"Hi, Dads," Rachel gave them a huge smile, hugging Daniel then Trey.

"Hi, sweetheart," Trey said, "We just wanted to say a quick hello before you guys walked to your seats."

"Rachel, you look as beautiful as always," Burt told her as he hugged her too.

"Thank you, Burt. Hi, Carol," she waved to Finn's mother who smiled warmly and greeted her.

"Oh, look at you, my handsome grown man," Carol said to Finn, reaching up to straighten his necktie, "Good luck today."

"Finn, where's your brother?" Burt asked him, "We wanted to wish him luck too."

"I saw him with Blaine earlier," Finn answered.

"Kurt's further up in line with Mercedes," Puck offered, "They're walking together."

"Come on, I'll show you…I've got to get back up there anyway," Rachel started walking toward the head of the line to find the rest of the Glee Club members, giving Finn one last smile and wave.

* * *

><p>Toward the front of the long line of seniors, Mercedes and Sam stood talking and laughing with Mike Chang.<p>

"Kurt, would you calm down?" Mercedes playfully slapped at her best friend. She was thrilled when Kurt told her he wanted her to be his line partner for the ceremony. She didn't even hesitate to tell her boyfriend that he would have to buddy up with Mike Chang. She knew it would be their one last memory together before Kurt headed off to Manhattan to attend NYADA with Rachel and Mercedes left for Northwestern University in Chicago.

"Just how much longer before we get this dog and pony show going?" Kurt asked dramatically, covering his eyes from the bright sun to see what Emma Pillsbury was doing with her clip-board at the front of the line of graduates, "I am literally starting to sweat."

Blaine laughed at his boyfriend and started fanning him with the graduation program he held in his hands, "Maybe I should pray for rain next year when I graduate so they'll move it to the auditorium for you, dear."

"I can't help that I have the skin coloring of a vampire from a macabre 1920s movie," Kurt insisted, waving his hand in front of his forehead to generate airflow.

"You know, Kurt…if you didn't have three layers of clothing on under your gown, you'd be fine like the rest of us," Mercedes pointed out sarcastically.

"The first rule of fashion, Mercedes, is strategic layering," Kurt retorted.

"I thought it was functionality?" Sam quipped, his white teeth showing as he grinned.

"Not true, there is no real function in high fashion, Sam," Blaine assured him.

"That explains the bowties then," Sam teased Blaine.

Mercedes laughed and shook her head, smiling at the handsome blond behind her in line.

"You look beautiful today, sweetheart," Sam complimented his girlfriend with a wink.

"Thank you," she hugged him in return, "I think the whole group of us look amazing today."

"I do feel quite dapper," Kurt adjusted the red cap on his head, turning to see his father and mother walking up.

"Son, you are already flushed," Burt told him.

"Hi, honey," Carol gave him a kiss on the cheek.

"Dad, you're our state senator…don't you think you could've arranged a couple of those misting machines for the comfort of the country's best Show Choir?"

"We are representing the State of Ohio, Burt," Blaine joked.

Burt laughed, never amazed by the suggestions that came from his son's mouth, "I don't think we had room in the budget for that this year, Kurt. As your state senator, I apologize for your _discomfort_."

The rest of the group laughed.

Blaine looked down at his watch to see that it was nearly 10:30am, "Burt, Carol…we better go find a seat."

"Ok, everybody…good luck…smile big when you accept your diploma so we get good pictures," Carol requested, waving back over her shoulder at them.

"Bye, relax and have fun out there," Blaine gave Kurt a quick kiss before walking away, telling him, "I'm proud of you, Kurt!"

* * *

><p>Quinn Fabray stood at the front of the line of graduating seniors and scanned the bleachers for her mom's blonde, sculpted bob, spotting her a few rows up, sitting next to Quinn's older sister near the middle of the stadium. The teen waved noticeably, catching her mom's attention, and her mom waved back and blew her a kiss. Quinn snickered slightly, not at all surprised to find her father absent from today's celebration.<p>

"There's the Valedictorian!"

Quinn turned her head, and exclaimed, "Yay, you made it!"

"I wouldn't miss it," Cate told her, walking up to put her arms around her girlfriend, kissing her lightly on the lips, "I'm so proud of you, honey."

"Thanks," the shorter girl beamed, "It was a fight to the finish…I barely edged out Rachel and Mike."

Cate squeezed her tightly and whispered, "Smart is sexy…you make sure those Ivy Leaguers at Yale know you're happily taken."

Quinn laughed, Cate's warm breath tickling her ear, "Well, good thing you'll be close enough to keep an eye on my extracurricular activities."

"Northampton is still nearly two hours away from New Haven…I guess I'll just have to trust you," Cate winked, "Or make you a giant sign for your dorm room window that says something like, 'Here rooms Quinn, girlfriend of Cate'!"

"Or…I could wear a scarlet C on all my clothes," Quinn joked.

Cate laughed loudly at that proposal, "I like that…I'll have my mom start sewing this week."

"Hi, Quinn…congratulations," another voice said behind the girls.

They turned to find Shelby Corcoran standing there, holding an adorable two-year-old little girl with a head full of blonde curls.

Quinn felt a mixture of elation and overwhelming emotion wash over her, and she swallowed hard to fight back tears. "Hi," she responded with restraint, "I didn't think about you being here today."

"I promised Rachel we'd come," Shelby said, "She want it to be a surprise."

"It is," Quinn sniffed and looked at Cate who had no idea what the connection was for Quinn, "This is Cate, my girlfriend."

"Hi, Cate…very nice to meet you…I've heard a lot about through Rachel," Shelby stated, adjusting the little girl on her hip, "I'm Shelby."

"Hello," Cate smiled politely.

"Shelby is Rachel's birth mother," Quinn explained to Cate.

"I carried Rachel for Daniel and Trey," Shelby said matter-of-factly.

"Oh ok," Cate nodded in recognition of the connection she now understood.

"And this is Beth," Shelby looked down at her daughter who was dressed in a white sundress with little white sandals and a pastel yellow sweater. The little girl looked as sweet and lovely as a summer daisy.

Cate looked at Quinn then back at Beth, instantly recognizing the green in the toddler's eyes, "Hi, Beth. You are a little beauty, aren't you?"

"Would you like to hold her, Quinn?" Shelby asked.

"Of course," Quinn said somewhat timidly, reaching out to the baby she gave birth to at the end of her sophomore year.

Beth went to Quinn with a smile and her arms outstretched. The blonde teen pulled her child close to her chest and kissed her on the forehead, pausing to breathe in the scent of her apricot shampoo.

"You just had a birthday," Quinn said to Beth.

"Aww, Happy Birthday, Beth," Cate told her, bending down to her height.

"Can you tell Quinn and Cate how old you are?"

Beth held up two fingers and said with a big smile, "Two."

All three of them laughed and smiled at the small gesture by the little girl.

"That's great!" Quinn complimented her.

"She can also sing _Twinkle Twinkle Little Star_," Shelby said cheerfully, "Well…sort of."

"I'd love to hear it. Will you be staying for the reception?" Quinn asked, squeezing Beth to her chest again, "Puck would love to see her too."

"Definitely," Shelby assured her, "We'll be in town this whole week. Let's all have lunch one day."

"That would be wonderful," Quinn's face lit up.

Cate silently watched Quinn as she held Beth, noting that Quinn seemed to have found some sense of peace about her decision to allow Beth to be adopted. The strength Quinn exhibited made the older girl respect and love her that much more.

"Shelby!" Rachel said as she walked up to them, followed closely by her dads.

"Hey there!" Shelby hugged each of them.

"It means a lot to me that you came today," Rachel said, slipping her arms around the taller woman's waist and pressing into her affectionately.

"I'm so proud of you, Rachel," Shelby declared, leaning her head on top of Rachel's, "You too, Quinn."

"Yes, if I had to be second best then I'm glad it's at least to someone I adore!" Rachel said to Quinn, reaching up to squeeze the blonde's elbow. Rachel then rubbed her hand across Beth's back and said, "Hey, cutie pie."

The little girl smiled at the small circle of people.

"We're just as proud of our Salutatorian," Daniel said enthusiastically.

"Co-Salutatorian," Rachel reminded them, referring to her tie with Mike Chang.

"Well, we couldn't be prouder of our baby girl," Daniel insisted.

"We love you, pumpkin," Trey added with a kiss on Rachel's cheek.

"Can we join this love fest?" Santana said jovially as she walked up to them with Brittany in tow.

"And there's our other baby girl!" Daniel exclaimed, greeting Santana with raised arms and a big kiss on the cheek then turning toward Brittany, "And a kiss for our baby-girl-in-law."

"Come on, Beth," Shelby held her hands out for her tiny daughter, "It's getting to be that time…let's go find a seat so we can see these lovely girls shine."

"Shelby…there's some extra room near my parents," Brittany told her, "They're holding seats for Daniel and Trey…just look for them…second row on the fifty-yard line."

"Thank you!" Shelby smiled gratefully, "Daniel, I'll see you guys up there in a few minutes."

"Bye, Beth," Quinn waived to the toddler, an emotional expression on the teen's attractive face. She was so glad to see her baby, but it pained her to see Beth go.

Shelby paused and turned so Beth could waive bye again to them then she leaned in to whisper something in the little girl's ear. Beth reached up with her chubby little hand and blew a kiss toward Quinn. It was actually more of a wet smack, but the gesture warmed Quinn's heart and made them all smile and waive again at the child.

Cate looked over at Quinn and saw fresh tears in the blonde's green eyes. She put her arm around Quinn and pulled her close, telling her in her ear, "You are amazing, Quinn Fabray. Don't ever forget that."

Quinn turned into Cate's embrace and sniffed hard, composing herself, then said softly, "I love you."

"I should go sit too…Judy's saving my seat," Cate said louder for everyone to hear, turning again toward Quinn and kissing her sweetly on the lips, adding, "I love you too. I can't wait to hear your speech!"

"Bye, Cate!" Santana and Brittany waived to their older friend.

The tall brunette looked back over her shoulder and waived to the group.

"Okay, before we go…I want to get a quick picture of you all together…Come on, Brittany, Santana, over here…Rachel stand next to your sister there," Daniel instructed, pointing Rachel to the spot next to Santana, "Quinn, you too, sweetheart…right there next to Rachel."

The four of them put their arms around each other's waists and leaned lovingly into each other, smiling happily.

"You all look beautiful in red!" Trey clasped his hands together with a giant smile and a look of such pride, "Gorgeous girls!"

"Say 'Graduation Day!'" Daniel suggested as they all smiled and repeated the phrase then he snapped several pictures.

"IF YOU ARE NOT A SENIOR, TAKE YOUR SEAT NOW!" Sue Sylvester's voice said loudly and firmly over her electronic megaphone.

"Dads go…or you'll end up walking with us!" Santana laughed.

"Okay, okay…we're going," Daniel smiled and waived to the girls as he and Trey walked away quickly to find Brittany's family in the bleachers.

"Santana?" a feminine voice said from the other direction.

The teen turned to find an older Latina woman stepping up behind her. "Mom!" the brunette instantly lit up, "You came."

"I was running late…I had to park down the street and come through the back gate," Mrs. Lopez said light-heartedly.

"I'm just glad to see you here," Santana told her, giving her a tight embrace.

"Congratulations! I can't believe my little girl is graduating from high school," Mrs. Lopez replied, "It seems like only yesterday I was leaving you at preschool…and you stood only this high." She held her hand near the top part of her thigh.

"Time flies…," Santana smiled.

"I want you to know I tried until the last minute, Santana…but I couldn't get your father to come with me," the older woman said with a defeated tone to her voice.

Santana looked over at Brittany who gave her a supportive smile then she looked over at Rachel who was chatting spiritedly with Kurt, Mercedes, and Quinn.

"It's fine, Mom...don't worry for one second," she put her arms around her mother again, telling her with confidence, "Because I have my whole family here today!"

"You look radiant, sweetheart…and happy. That's all I can hope for you," her mother said encouragingly, "…and I'm so proud of you for getting accepted to NYU…I know you will do well. Study hard, ok?"

"No worries, Mrs. L, I'll help her with her homework...," Brittany joked with a wink, putting her hand at the small of Santana's back.

Santana laughed, "Dean's List, here I come!"

"I know you will continue to be her support system, Brittany…," the older Latina, reached to hug the young blonde, "But if either of you need anything…call me. I will do what I can for you two."

"We will," Brittany assured her.

Santana looked at her watch, "Mom…hurry and sit down…it's about to start."

"Yes, okay…good luck, girls!"

"Go look for my parents…I know they'll have a seat for you," Brittany called out after her.

Santana looked at Brittany and held her hand out to her, asking anxiously, "Are you ready for this?"

"To graduate?" The blonde took Santana's hand as they lined up directly behind Rachel and Quinn.

Santana shrugged, clarifying, "To head into adulthood."

Brittany's nose wrinkled as she innocently pondered their future endeavors, responding, "Well, if I'm with you then…what could go wrong?"

Santana laughed, her dimples showing. "I'll take care of you if you'll take care of me," the brunette declared, squeezing Brittany's hand.

"Deal!" Brittany agreed optimistically.

_**Don't you worry there my honey**_

_**We might not have any money**_

_**But we've got our love to pay the bills…**_

_**Maybe I think you're cute and funny**_

_**Maybe I wanna do what bunnies do with you**_

_**If you know what I mean…**_

_**Oh let's get rich and buy our parents homes**_

_**In the South of France**_

_**Let's get rich and give everybody nice sweaters**_

_**And teach them how to dance…**_

_**Let's get rich and build our house on a mountain**_

_**Making everybody look like ants**_

_**From way up there**_

_**You and I, you and I…**_

_**Well you might be a bit confused**_

_**And you might be a little bit bruised**_

_**But baby, how we spoon like no one else…**_

_**So I will help you read those books**_

_**If you will soothe my worried looks**_

_**And we will put the lonesome on the shelf…**_

_**Oh let's get rich and buy our parents homes**_

_**In the South of France**_

_**Let's get rich and give everybody nice sweaters**_

_**And teach them how to dance…**_

_**Let's get rich and build our house on a mountain**_

_**Making everybody look like ants**_

_**From way up there**_

_**You and I, you and I.**_

* * *

><p>There was an announcement over the stadium loudspeaker, welcoming the families and friends of the 2012 graduating seniors and asking the excited crowd to please rise for their entrance. Soon after, the orchestra who was seated nearby began playing <em>Pomp and Circumstance<em>, and Emma Pillsbury motioned to Quinn Fabray to lead the line toward the designated chairs in the middle of the football field just as they had practiced the prior afternoon.

Quinn smiled at the petite brunette next to her and grabbed her by the hand, squeezing it tightly, "Ready?"

Rachel returned the smile and responded apprehensively, "I guess there's no turning back now."

The two of them started walking hand-in-hand, leading the rest of the seniors in the procession.

Santana and Brittany were the second pair in line and smiled at each other, lovingly linking arms as they walked slowly to the traditional graduation march behind Quinn and Rachel.

The girls both waived up into the stands when a roar of cheer from the center section of the bleachers erupted as they passed, hearing a particularly loud squeal of delight from a small blonde girl who hollered, "Yay, B…Yay, Santana!"

Kurt and Mercedes and Sam and Mike Chang kept the line going followed by the rest of the seniors in their bright red caps and gowns. They all waived excitedly when they passed Tina and Artie who were seated with Mike's family in the front row of the stands.

Somewhere toward the back of the line was Finn and Puck who high-fived Will Shuester when they passed his assigned monitoring location.

"Congratulations, guys!" Will told them with a proud smile, watching them take their seats behind the rest of their classmates.

Once everyone in attendance was seated, Principal Figgins approached the microphone to give his welcome speech and make some final announcements for the seniors and their families. He then congratulated the Valedictorian and Co-Salutatorians with everyone applauding for Quinn, Rachel, and Mike Chang.

Santana leaned across Rachel and took Quinn's hand, whispering to her, "I'm so proud of you two."

They both smiled widely at her.

"So if you will help me congratulate Quinn Fabray who will now give our Commencement Address," Principal Figgins led the applause, stepping back to his seat for Quinn to approach the podium.

The beautiful blonde stood and brushed at her gown to straighten it then walked gracefully to the center of the stage. A light breeze blew at the black and red strands of the tassel hanging from the red cap that sat ceremoniously on top of her head. She looked over at the crowded bleachers and saw her mother and sister sitting with Cate, causing her to feel at ease. The former Cheerios captain drew in a deep breath then revealed, "I had a speech prepared about how reading is the foundation of a quality education and how focused we must stay in order to achieve in life...along with a few other nauseating clichés such as those, but I've decided I'm not going to give that speech today."

Quinn shuffled her index cards as the silence around her mounted, laying them down on the podium and adjusting the microphone toward her mouth.

She cleared her throat and continued, "I'm really no expert on any subject matter. I'm truly humbled as I stand before you today, because I am probably the poster child of how not to conduct your high school experience. I made some bad choices, hurt some important people along the way, but in spite of all that, I made one really wise choice…to be part of our school's Glee Club."

Quinn paused and looked up to see her fellow Glee Clubbers looking around at each other with giant smiles of affection on their faces.

"Through the friends I made in Glee Club, I learned firsthand that life…and love…are not about the moments you plan out, because who are we kidding…rarely does anything go according to plan, right? Life is a collection of the small things…the quiet moments when you gaze at the stars or when you share a delicious cup of coffee with good friends or when you get a surprise visit from somebody special, however brief the visit might be…."

Quinn bit at her lower lip to stop it from quivering at the thought of Beth before carrying on, "Enjoy those moments…soak them up…store them away…because those are the moments that make the best memories…and those are the memories that will keep us warm on cold nights when we are all old and gray. Thank you, Mr. Shue, for teaching all of us that valuable lesson."

She looked over at all the youthful, glowing faces of her fellow graduates, finishing with, "And even though the world is often a cruel and unpredictable place, stop and look around you….because when you are at your most vulnerable and your most broken and your most lonely…there are people who love you and want the best for you. They may not be the people you envisioned being part of your life, but regardless, love is beautiful if you just open yourself up to it."

Santana looked down at her lap and sighed, touched by Quinn's words of wisdom, grateful for all the love in her own life, even if most of it was oddly unconventional. Her eye instantly went to the silver ring on her left hand, and she twisted it off her finger to look closer at it. The gesture meant everything to her that Brittany wanted the two of them to have matching rings. The fact that Brittany worked hard all year just to buy it for her made Santana's heart nearly burst with joy.

The Latina tilted her ring, the sunlight glinting off of the polished silver, and she looked inside of it, seeing that there was an inscription. A smile spread across Santana's face, and she reached over to Brittany and took her by the hand, squeezing it.

"I love you," she whispered to Brittany who squeezed back then pulled Santana's hand up and kissed it with a knowing wink.

Santana Lopez pulled back her hand to put the ring back on her finger, looking once more at the ornate letters inside.

The message read simply…_Forever yours, proudly so _~ B

_** The End**_

* * *

><p><strong>Final Author's Note:<strong> We made it to the end...together! Thank you to each and every one of you who took time out of your personal life to read this story. The fact that you guys were so invested and so emotional throughout it has been my ultimate motivation. I don't know y'all individually, but I adore each of you more than these simple words can express.

The song referenced in this section is _You and I_ by Ingrid Michaelson. I love that song and thought it summed up everything that is precious about Brittany and Santana.

Please watch for the posting of my sequel, titled _**Keep Me Where the Light Is**_. It is set in Manhattan in the year 2022.

Thank you again, Kim


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